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solitaireships · 6 days ago

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Pulled From the Abyss

I've been working on this fic for a long while now, and it's finally ready to go! I wanted to do my take on the reunion between the PC and their love interest near the end of the game, so this is based on that and focused on Minala, Bellara, and Emmrich

Rating: Teen

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Words: 3606 words

Divider by saradika

Content warning: talk about death, mentions of the possible end of the world

⚠️ Note this contains spoilers for events following the point of no return of Veil.guard! ⚠️

The first time Minala understands Solas is as she treks through the Fade prison, surrounded by her regrets. Neve and Harding both loom over her, lifeless statues that say the exact things she’s scared they would say if they could. She thinks she might have been willing to do anything to get out of here too, though it’s still hard for her to be too sympathetic towards the man who trapped her here, manipulating her grief and shock at Varric’s death to control her.

She can’t stay here forever. It’s bad enough being surrounded by her regrets, having all of her fears that she’s let others down magnified to the point where they almost become suffocating. It would be easy to give up, and let her guilt at everything she could have done differently keep her chained in this spot in the Fade forever.

But Minala knows there’s no point in letting her regrets drown her. Neve and Harding made their choices— they knew what was at stake, and they knew that they ran the risk of not making it back alive. All of them knew that they might not make it out of their encounter with Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain. But they were willing to take that chance if it meant stopping them, and if it meant saving all of Thedas. They did what they felt they had to, and Minala knows they wouldn’t have wanted her to let their sacrifices mean nothing. The best way to honor them is by forging ahead, finding a way out of this prison, and finishing what they had started.

It’s just a matter of how to escape the Fade. Solas had only managed to escape by using Minala, performing blood magic to manipulate her into taking his place. But Minala’s sure that there has to be some way to get out, it’s just a matter of what. She’s not an expert in the Fade, but every Watcher at least learns the basics. It’s not uncommon for spirits to be able to slip through the Veil, making it out into the living world. She imagines that what’s called a Fade prison presumably is harder to escape, especially if it used to contain elven gods, but there has to be some way out.

So Minala searches. She roams through the sea of floating rocks and twisting paths, the dream-like environment that almost looks like it could be real but it always looks just a little off in a way she can’t place. The colors of everything here are muted, as though the world has been filtered through a sea of gray and brown. Hints of color peek through, but it’s as if they have to fight against the dark of the Fade to even exist.

Minala doesn’t know how long she keeps looking. She knew that it wouldn’t be so easy finding a tear in the Fade or spot where it’s thin enough that she might be able to rip her way out. But the longer she looks for a way out, the harder it is to keep her motivation up. She knows she can’t give up, but the idea of it gets more tempting the longer she looks, finding no way to escape.

But hope comes before she can get lost in the futility of her situation. Emmrich’s voice cuts through the haze of the Fade, a moment of clarity that’s sharp enough to pierce through anything else.

“This way. It’s thinner here!” There’s a pause as the Fade seems to flicker and shift ahead of her, almost looking as though it’s tearing itself apart at the seams. Then Emmrich’s voice comes again, louder now. “There! A light!”

Minala moves closer to the rip in the Fade, wondering if she’s approaching it in time with Emmrich. She can at least hear that he’s there— she wonders if Bellara is too. The thought of seeing her partners again is more than enough to urge her forward, to give her the final push she needed to leave everything here behind.

She can’t change the past. She can’t save everyone. But sitting here and stewing in her regrets isn’t the right way to honor Neve and Harding. They wouldn’t have wanted their sacrifices to have meant nothing, and they wouldn’t have wanted her to give up. They knew the risks of the mission, just like everyone else did. And the best thing she can do now is keep moving forward rather than letting herself be held back by her regrets.

Minala’s made mistakes. She’ll probably make more. But all she can do is hope every day to do better, and that there’s still time to try to fix things.

As she gets closer to the rift in the Fade, a familiar gleaming array of rings and bangles on a thin arm comes through the almost blinding light. It stands out sharply against the muted grays and browns of the Fade, a beacon to come even closer to it. Minala would recognize Emmrich’s jewelry anywhere— it shines along his arm, calling her closer.

“Darling? Are you there? Take my hand if you can!” Emmrich calls. His voice is muted and warped, almost like she’s hearing him from underwater, but still it’s a relief.

“I’m here!” Minala says, though she has no idea if he can actually hear her or not. She hopes he can as she closes the distance between her and the rift, reaching out for his hand.

As Minala’s fingers twine with Emmrich’s, she hears a relieved laugh escape him. “Bellara! My love, I found her!”

“You did?” Bellara’s voice comes next, distant at first and still with that muted quality Emmrich’s has, but drawing closer. “You did! Come on, let’s get her out!”

Emmrich’s grip tightens on Minala’s hand, his other hand reaching out to take hers too.

“Come back to me, dearest. We all need you far more than you could ever realize,” he says, voice low enough that she’s not entirely sure if she was supposed to hear that.

Bellara’s voice keeps Minala from thinking about that for long, though. “Alright, if we pull hard together we should be able to get her out!”

Minala’s not entirely sure what she should do to help them get her out, but she closes her eyes and hopes for the best as she feels Emmrich pulling her forward. It’s a sharp tug, no doubt helped along by Bellara. For a moment it’s as though the Fade too is trying to pull her, to keep her trapped here. But Minala reminds herself that she can’t stay here, not when there are people who still need her on the other side. Not when her partners are here to save her.

When Minala stumbles out from the Fade rift, she all but collapses into Emmrich’s arms. It’s strange to be on even footing again, to no longer be lost in a world that both feels like reality and yet distinctly not at the same time. But Emmrich is real, and he’s warm and solid in her arms. He wraps her in a tight hug, hands grasping at her as if to confirm that he really managed to find her.

“Emmrich,” she breathes out.

“Minala,” he replies, relief evident in his voice. When he speaks again, his voice is choked up, as if he’s holding back tears. “I thought I had lost you.”

“Not yet,” Minala promises.

She rests her chin on Emmrich’s shoulder, squeezing him as tightly as possible. It’s easier to think about how terrified he must have been when she vanished than it is to think much about what just happened to her. She can only imagine how worried he was with his thanatophobia, how horrified he must have been at the prospect of one of his worst fears becoming reality.

Minala’s thoughts are interrupted by another pair of arms wrapping around her, this time from the back. She doesn’t need to turn to know it’s Bellara— she would know her touch anywhere.

“We were so scared,” Bellara says, not managing to hold back tears as well as Emmrich did. “You were— you were just gone. And Solas was there and… I’m so glad that you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Minala replies.

It’s only now that she’s truly able to process the sight in front of her. They’re in elven ruins, though it’s hard to process exactly where. Emmrich looks messier than usual— his hair is ruffled like he just got out of bed and there’s dark stubble on his jaw and neck. His clothes are even a little disheveled, with the collar of his shirt being crumpled and messy. It’s strange not seeing him completely put together, and she can’t help but feel guilty her disappearance had such an effect on him.

Bellara looks to have been hit pretty hard too when Minala turns to see her over her shoulder. It’s never been uncommon for Bellara’s bun to come out a bit messy, with her sometimes being in a rush to get it put up before starting the day. But it’s messier than usual now, and her eyes are puffy like she had been crying even before she had come back. Tears stream down her face, only seeming to come down faster when Minala looks at her, and she squeezes her even tighter.

“Please don’t leave us like that ever again,” Bellara says, burying her face against the side of Minala’s neck. “I missed you so, so much.”

“I missed you too,” Minala says. “And I promise that I’ll do everything I can to make sure I never have to leave you again.”

Time moves differently in the Fade. That’s something that Minala has known for years, knowledge that had been instilled in her from her years of study with the Mourn Watch. But it’s one thing to know that’s the case, and another to have actually experienced it while trapped in the Fade prison. It’s hard to believe weeks have passed, and now the world draws closer and closer to crumbling to pieces.

Minala tells herself that there’s no point in regretting the time lost. Even if she wasn’t here, the rest of the team was hard at work while she was away. They managed to save her, for one— something she’s sure they only managed to do between Emmrich’s knowledge of the Fade combined with Bellara’s expertise on all the oddities that can come about when the Fade is thin. She wouldn’t be here if not for them, and she knows she’ll never be able to thank them enough for saving her.

But right now, they have other priorities. Minala wakes up on the morning the world may end knowing that there’s a lot riding on her shoulders. She won’t have to face it alone, at least. Her team will be with her, and they’re rallying their allies to join the fight in Minrathous. The Shadow Dragons have everything ready for what might be their final stand before the Veil falls, and the eluvian network at least should make it easier to gather their allies. And if she’s careful about it, she should be able to use the false lyrium dagger the others made to outwit the god of trickery himself.

Minala tells herself that everything will work out. The battle ahead will be harsh, but she wants to think they’ll still be able to pull through. Last night was a reminder of what she has to fight for— Davrin, Taash, and Lucanis all looked relieved to see her back, and Manfred managed to say he missed her as he jumped around and pulled her into a hug.

But one of the biggest motivators Minala has to make it out of this alive is waking up in bed with her partners. Though as she blinks awake, she realizes Emmrich is gone— hardly an unusual sight in the morning since he’s an early riser and tries to do his morning stretches before Minala and Bellara wake up. But Bellara is still fast asleep next to her, snoring a bit with her face buried against one of the pillows. She always looks adorable like this, sleeping so peacefully that it makes Minala want to curl back up and drift off to sleep again.

But the sound of the door to her room as Emmrich returns distracts her from that. She peers at him through the dark as he makes his way back towards the bed. He’s still in his dressing gown, but he must have been up for a while, with the stubble he had been sporting when he pulled her out of the Fade having just been shaved. It’s nice seeing him getting back to his usual look, though Minala can’t deny that he did look handsome with a bit more facial hair.

“Good morning, my love,” he greets in a low whisper as he gets closer to the bed.

“You shaved,” Minala notes with a yawn.

“It was about time that I cleaned myself up,” Emmrich replies. He sits on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “It was a difficult past few weeks.”

Minala can only imagine. It’s not like Emmrich to not care for himself like that— he wanted to bring his shaving tools and silk dressing gown on a camping trip. And she hates knowing that she’s the reason he let his usual care for himself slip for weeks.

“I’m so sorry I left you,” Minala says. “I can only imagine how terrifying it must have been.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, dearest,” Emmrich replies.

“But I do. I know how scared death makes you, and I’m— you’re right. We all need to be more careful.”

The expression on Emmrich’s face is hard to read, but there’s a softness to it. He brushes Minala’s bangs aside, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Bellara would have you believe I was the one who managed to convince her to keep the faith you’d return,” he says. “Perhaps I needed to convince her as much as I needed to convince myself. I was terrified every moment you were gone. That old fear of mortality seized me again, though this time it was also at the thought of losing you. It clung to me in every waking moment, and even in some sleeping ones.”

Minala wishes she had been here for Emmrich then. She’s woken up before when he’s had one of his episodes in the night, tears streaming down his face and barely able to breathe. She might not be able to ease the panic that washes over him, but she can help him through it. She takes his hand in hers, giving it a quick squeeze in an attempt at reassurance.

“Bellara was a great help through it all, though. It was easier to breathe with her at my side, just as Manfred helps. But I couldn’t help but feel that it is far easier to face the thought of that final, eternal dark when I have you here too,” Emmrich says. “You know I love you, don’t you, darling?”

“And I love you too,” Minala promises. It’s not the first time she’s said that to Emmrich. Bellara’s still taking her time to warm up to saying she loves them, but Emmrich has been open with his affections for months now. Still, saying it this time feels different. Maybe it was their time apart that makes it feel more real, like a confirmation that they’ll be there for each other through everything.

“So please. No more scares like that.”

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure nothing like this happens again.”

Emmrich sighs, but that must have been a good enough response for him. He pulls himself back into the bed, laying on his side so he can face Minala. When she slips her hand beneath his dressing gown, he rests his chin on her shoulder. His body relaxes against hers as she rubs his back.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you for good,” Emmrich admits. “There’s comfort to being here with another Watcher, but the way you see things… I’m not sure you know how much you inspire me.”

“You’re very sweet,” Minala says.

“And you, my love, are far too humble. You’re indomitable, and the way you’re able to face death every day without flinching would be admirable under any circumstances.”

“I could say you’re too humble too. You’re a lot braver than you know, Emmy.”

“Maybe so,” Emmrich admits. “But after this all ends, I’d like you to tell me more about how you think of death.”

“Are you sure?” As much as Minala likes the idea of getting to talk about it with him, she doesn’t want to push too far. The last thing she ever wants to do is hurt him.

“You see things differently from how I do. But perhaps if you tell me more about your way of thinking, I might be able to change my own thoughts on the end,” he replies.

Minala smiles. “Then I’d be happy to help as much as you want me to.”

“Thank you.” Emmrich draws closer for a kiss at that, his lips soft against Minala’s.

On Minala’s other side, Bellara stretches, yawning. “You two are so cute.”

Minala reaches out with her spare hand, brushing it against Bellara’s hip. “How long have you been awake?”

“Just a minute or so. I only heard that last bit. The part about talking about death stuff to help with Emmrich’s fears around it. And all the sweet compliments,” she says.

“Then good morning,” Minala greets.

“Good morning,” Bellara replies.

“Did you sleep well, darling?” Emmrich inquires.

“A lot better with Minala back.” She sighs, cuddling up closer against Minala. “You’re… you make me feel a lot calmer, you know. It’s hard to get my head to stop buzzing sometimes, and the thoughts never really stop. But I don’t know. It’s easier to rest when I’m with you. With both of you.”

“I know what you mean,” Minala says. It’s easier to soothe her mind when she’s with Bellara and Emmrich. There’s something about their presence that makes it easier for her to relax, and put the rest of the world on hold for just a moment.

“But, um, if we’re going to be mushy this morning, I think I should say something.”

Minala and Emmrich exchange a quick look. They can guess what she might be about to say, why she might have such a nervous tone to her voice right now.

“You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready yet,” Minala reassures her, untangling her arms from Emmrich so she can roll onto her side and face Bellara.

“I know, but I want to say it. It’s important to me that you both hear me say it,” Bellara says. She takes a breath, closing her eyes. “Some things are just hard to say! Really, really hard! But I… when you were gone, it was like a part of me was gone too. And I never want to feel that way again. I never want to feel that way with either of you. You’re… ugh. I can say it, I know I can say it. It’s just— give me a minute.”

“You’re welcome to take as much time as you need,” Emmrich says. “Minala and I understand.”

“Thanks. I— you both are amazing,” she says. “And I don’t know, maybe building up to saying it will make it easier? Or something? I don’t know why saying three words is so scary, but I want you to know that I mean them. More than anything.”

“I know,” Minala promises.

Bellara’s quiet for a moment. Minala’s sure that she’s wishing she had the notebook she brings around with her sometimes, scripting out what she wants to say before she says it. That’s one of the many things she finds endearing about Bellara— a feeling she can relate to as well as find sweet. Now, though, she has to map out what she says in her head, taking the time to find the right words to say. But Minala’s sure that no matter what she says, she and Emmrich will be happy to hear it.

“Mala lath athim, mir uthenera,” Bellara eventually says, stretching across Minala to take both of her partners hands. The elven words roll smoothly off her tongue, like poetry or words to a long lost song, but there’s a shyness to her tone.

“That’s elven, isn’t it? What does it mean?” Emmrich inquires.

“Your love humbles me, my eternal waking dream,” she translates slowly, carefully. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as if to steady herself, before she speaks again. “I love you both. More than I knew I could. No matter what happens next, I need you to know that.”

Minala smiles, shifting closer to Bellara to press a kiss to her cheek. “I love you too, baby.”

“And we’ll make sure that what happens next will be a happy ending for us,” Emmrich says as he takes Bellara’s hand, lifting it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

Minala hopes that he’s right. That after everything that happens today, there’ll be a happy ending waiting for the three of them. It’s an idea she’ll carry with her into the fight ahead, a reminder for her of what awaits if they win the day.

Her partners deserve a happy ending. And Minala hopes that by the end of the day, they’ll have it.

#my posts #my writing #♟️ minala #gothic sunshine #🦌#🦌 coffin bells #⚰️#⚰️ enduring affection #i'm not fully happy with this but it's good enough

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livingthedragonlife · 2 months ago

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ROOK ASK GAME WOOO!! ANOTHA ONE! 7, 9,15, 16

YIPPEEEEE

[the ask game in question]

[my Rook, real name Valonril, also Val, I use all 3 interchangeably. Important for this game in particular, he romanced Davrin]

7. Are they a physically affectionate couple? Are they fine displaying those affections in public or do they prefer to be in private? If they're not, how do they prefer to show their love instead?

Yes, they are! Because it makes me happy and that’s the only excuse I need!

Rook has good days and bad days when it comes to touching, especially if dysphoria levels are high. Far more often than not, Davrin is a Safe Touch person, even on bad days when he otherwise wouldn’t let anybody else touch him. On good days, he would be happy to be glued to Davrin’s side for hours at a time, and often is. And Davrin “hand does not leave your thigh after the first kiss I stole because I was too excited to let you finish the sentence” Dragonage is more than happy to oblige this. Davrin “gives you a massage as foreplay” Dragonage, they also do that.

In public, they are the couple that is outwardly very professional about it, but once you start looking closer you notice they’re always touching each other somehow. Holding hands, touching the lower back, head on shoulder, they hook their ankles under the table, they always conveniently stand close enough to touch arms. They find invisible things to fix about each other’s outfits. They’re whispering when they think nobody’s paying attention. Or even if they are, honestly.

9. Does your Rook bring them out often? How are they like on the battlefield? Do they banter much?

So the meta answer is that my regular party was almost always my Rook (elf, rogue), Davrin, and Bellara. I would shake it up if I was fighting something that didn’t work well with that set, or if I was going to a particular character’s area, I would usually bring them no matter what the quest was, but most of the time I was Elf Squad.

In-universe answer: Due to how inseparable they are, Davrin will often volunteer to come on whatever mission, and most of the time Val is going to ask him first anyway. It’s an excuse for Assan to get some practice in, too, so everybody wins!

On the field, they work well together! This is partly because they use combat sparring as foreplay, but also because it’s a lot easier for a rogue to stab people when a warrior is soaking up all the attention. There have been times where they keep track of their “score” to one up each other. They absolutely have banter, and every time Davrin whips out the “not bad… for a veil jumper!” Val immediately has to find a situation in which he can either 1) unquestionably save his ass, like killing a guy he didn’t notice or 2) one-up him in a particularly flashy way.

15. What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

Davrin really strikes me as a “he’s not dead until I see the body,” type. Rook switched places with Solas (I assume the companions figure this out while you’re gone), and Solas was alive in the Fade, therefore Rook is not dead, and we will keep looking until we find him. And though he promised not to chop anymore wood… he does start a few carvings, to go with those he lost as Weisshaupt. One for Harding, of course. One for Neve (since they don’t know she’s alive). He starts one for Rook, too. Just in case. He makes a point of never finishing it.

I know we don’t get to see what happens immediately after Rook gets pulled out of the Fade Prison and just skip right to the meeting in the library, but honestly? The ONLY thing I wanted was a group hug. Davrin and Assan jump on Val first, and crush his bones. Everyone else follows.

16. How did your Rook react to getting trapped in the Fade and separated from their partner?

Okay so the first thing Val did when he got his bearings was come up with a list of new and colorful things to call Solas. He had to go full rage mode for a second.

A bit later, when it sets in, when he realizes where he is… There’s panic. There’s dread. There’s a lot of “fuck. fucking shit. okay. shit. fuck.” Harding and Neve just died for them, he’s worried about the rest of the team, the world, the fact that Solas clearly does not have their best interests at heart and now he’s FREE. He’s mad at himself for letting Solas get into his head enough to actually cut him some slack, maybe if he’d been more of a hardass this wouldn’t have happened.

And of course he’s thinking about Davrin, about the promise they both made to fight like hell to get back from Tearstone Island alive. Alive, together, and with a future. Rook is distraught about so many things at the same time right now, but he made a promise. He’s still alive, but he made a promise, he’s not dead yet, so he has to come back alive. It was the very fine thread he held onto hope and sanity with.

#she speaks #dragon council #dragon age #ask game #dragon age rook #davrook #Valonril Aldwir

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pardonmydelays · 5 months ago

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prison gang as tøp songs?

everyone gets three songs, because i just couldn't decide (i even made a playlist but it's more for me than for you cause i'm not gonna force you to listen to it, obviously). there will be very little explanation, just some quotes:

ME: forest + car radio + backslide (forest is the one i relate to the most, it's not on spotify so youtube is your only option if you wanna listen to it)

the situation's becoming dire, my treehouse is on fire and for some reason i smell gas on my hands, this is not what i had planned...

i'm forced to deal with what i feel, there is no distraction to mask what is real, i could pull the steering wheel

cause i feel the pull, water's over my head, strength enough for one more time, reach my hand above the tide, i'll take anything you have if you could throw me a line...

BEL: heavydirtysoul + midwest indigo + migraine (in my mind those are your songs now, they are not mine anymore, and i honestly love it so very much)

gangsters don't cry, therefore, therefore i'm mr misty-eyed... can you save my heavy dirty soul?

i want love and sunny days, i'm a bit too old to run away, you make me sad and second-guess myself, you can be so cold...

am i the only one i know waging my wars behind my face and above my throat? shadows will scream that i'm alone... but i know we've made it this far, kid.

RED: formidable + paladin strait + bandito (for some reason i gave you all joshler songs, and yes, formidable is not about jenna, it's about josh)

i'll follow you, but you should know, i might be cynical towards you, i'm just worried my loyalty will bore you, i can die with you, just let me know.

i would swim the paladin strait without any floatation, just a glimpse of visual aid of you on the other shoreline, waiting, expectations that i'm gonna make it...

i could take the high road, but i know that i'm going low... i'm a ban-, i'm a bandito...

ANIX: taxi cab + the craving (jenna's version) + nico and the niners (i was crying while typing this, especially because of taxi cab, maybe i will explain it to you one day)

i know the night will turn to grey, i know the stars will start to fade when all the darkness fades away, we had to steal him from his fate so he could see another day...

say enough, say enough, did i let her know, let her know? if i found my body in chains i'd lay down and wait and hope she looks for me...

i'm careless when i wear my rebel clothes, when bishops come together they will know that dema don't control us.

M: oh ms believer + screen + shy away (two of those three always make me cry, i don't know why but in your case it was such an obvious choice)

oh, ms believer, my pretty weeper, your twisted thoughts are like snow on the rooftops, please take my hand, we're in foreign land, as we travel through snow, together we go...

i do not know why i would go in front of you and hide my soul, cause you're the only one who knows it... yeah, you're the only one who knows it.

don't you shy away, manifest a ceiling when you shy away, searching for that feeling just like an "i love you" that isn't words, like a song he wrote that's never heard.

EDITH: tear in my heart + we don't believe what's on tv + oldies station (it's totally not because you love oldies station, but somehow i feel like even if you don't like twenty one pilots, you may actually like those three)

sometimes you gotta bleed to know that you're alive and have a soul, but it takes someone to come around and show you how...

i need to know that when i fail you'll still be here, cause if you stick around i'll sing you pretty sounds and we'll make money selling your hair

add some years, build some trust, you start to feel your eyes adjust, when darkness rolls on you, push on through.

#wow this is a motherfucking essay #i mean you don't even have to read it #that's why i don't wanna tag you #it's whatever idk #i honestly don't even know why i spent so much time on this #anyway #it's based mostly on vibes i guess #anon #prison gang #i saved every letter you wrote me*

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lemissingmask · 1 year ago

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[ID: Sketch of Jacob Stone bursting into flames, with his exposed arm and hand on fire already and sparks around him, and an expression of pain on his face. End ID]

Day 26: Curse

vampire!Stone dealing with the curse of vampirism and bursting into flame when someone accidentally opens the back door and lets in daylight.

Ficlet (to be honest it got carried away and I don’t think it’s in ficlet territory anymore) below the cut. This carries on almost directly from Dehumanization prompt fill.

There’s one more loose end I need to wrap up for this vampire!Stone series

It was a trick. It was another of the vampire’s sick games. Or his mind was messing with him. It had moved on from hopeful hallucinations to nightmares.

Jake wasn’t here.

He wasn’t in the annex, and he wasn’t looking at the empty space where he should have been in a mirror he knew so well. A mirror he knew worked and he knew he should be able to see himself in because he had so many times before.

Jake couldn’t be here.

He was still in that dark, cold cell, waiting for the vampires to come back and feed on him again. Any moment this nightmare would fade to reality and he would see his own blood on the floor beneath him, a ghost of his reflection in it.

This nightmare just needed to stop soon.

It really needed to stop, and Eve needed to stop feeling so real and solid behind him, holding him up when he knew it was only those chains holding him up. They were his only support and he needed to wake up and return to them and end this.

But he wasn’t.

Jake wasn’t waking up, and Eve was still behind him, Cassie still in front of him, Ezekiel behind her.

They were talking but he didn’t hear.

He had to wake up.

He tried to pull away from them. To escape this lie.

He fell, but he never felt his body hit the floor, and not from the chains. Eve was still there and she had caught him and the nightmare wouldn’t end.

Jake tried to get away.

If he could get back through the back door…maybe that would wake him up. Maybe that would bring him back to the familiar cell and the feedings, and vampires didn’t feed on other vampires.

But he couldn’t get free.

There was Jenkins too, holding him steady, and now he knew this had to be a trick from the vampire because there was a sudden sharp pain in his arm, like a bite. Not much pain, but it was there and it was sharp. It had to be a fang, so he knew it was a lie.

He was still in that prison.

Jake was still human.

Eve had been standing behind Stone, already supporting most of his weight, so it took almost no adjustment to catch him when his legs suddenly gave way.

She had been prepared for it.

She had not been prepared for the tears she saw rolling down his cheeks, cutting paths through the blood spattered over his skin, nor for him to weakly try and get free of her arms.

And she had definitely not been prepared for Jenkins to kneel on his other side and suddenly inject him with something that looked unsettlingly like the sedative they had used on the saw-toothed moth when it had gotten loose a few months ago.

“What the hell Jenkins?!” Ezekiel yelled, “He hasn’t had enough stabby already?!”

“It’s just a sedative,” Jenkins replied not quite with his usual calm, “It should keep him out for a few hours.”

Eve nodded shakily, “That’s good. He was panicking and making his injuries worse. This way we can keep him alive until we get him to a hospital.”

“We can’t take him to a hospital,” Flynn said solemnly.

He was the only one standing away from the group, watching them, his expression as grave as Eve had ever seen it.

“Why not?!” Cassandra had caught one of Stone’s hands with her own, “We tell them it was an animal attack or something…use a spell to…”

“We can’t take him to a hospital!” Flynn snapped back, suddenly in motion. He grabbed Judson’s mirror and set it down beside them, tilted so they could see Stone’s reflection in it.

Or, where Stone’s reflection should have been.

“We can’t take him to a hospital,” Flynn repeated more gently, “Because he’s a vampire.”

“No,” Eve breathed, shaking her head, “H-he’s not…”

“He is,” Flynn let the mirror lay flat, crouching and looking back at Stone.

“Well we gotta do something!” Ezekiel looked desperately from Flynn to Jenkins, who only shook his head.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“You stopped me from becoming a werewolf!”

“Lycanthropy does not require the afflicted to die!” Jenkins snapped back, then managed to master himself, and added solemnly, “Mr Stone has already died in order to get this far into the transformation. It cannot be reversed now.”

Cassandra whispered a heartbreaking, trembling, “He died there?” that was drowned out my Ezekiel’s voice, desperate and angry.

“We have the entire library! We can’t just give up! There has to be something we can do!”

“There is,” Eve wiped the tears that kept brimming in her eyes, “We support him. We help him through whatever comes next and we make sure he knows this is still his home. He’s still a librarian.”

“Eve’s right,” Flynn said, “We can’t stop this but we can still help.”

“What about the sanctuary? Estelle might be able to help…”

“No! He belongs here!” Ezekiel bit his lip, “Besides he doesn’t trust easily. We’re the only ones he does trust.”

“So we get him to his room,” Eve said, “We patch him up, do what we can, and prepare for…for whatever comes next.”

“Cassandra,” Flynn moved in position to help Eve carry Stone again, “Look into spells that can be used to keep a vampire contained without harming them.��

“We’re gonna lock him up?!”

“We’re going to contain him until the initial inevitable blood lust passes and he has control of it, and speaking of which, Jones, you need to go steal some blood.”

“Steal some blood?! Seriously?! We’re just gonna let this happen and…” Ezekiel cut himself off, or maybe just couldn’t figure out the words to say.

“Yes, from a blood bank. Look for AB blood types. He’s going to need blood to recover, and to stave off the cravings. It’s like a…”

“So we have a plan,” Eve interrupted what she could see what an impending ramble, “Cassandra, spells to safely contain vampires. Jones, rob a blood bank. Flynn, Jenkins, with me.”

Direct, clear action was good. That’s what they needed. They needed things to do so they didn’t have to think. Think about the fact that Stone had died in that dark, cold, dirty cell, alone but for his tormentors. The vampires who had done this to him.

The sedative Jenkins had given him seemed to be working. Either that or he was still human enough to be completely struck down by the severe injuries and extreme blood loss.

The transformation hadn’t gone far, according to Jenkins. He had only just been turned, which meant if they had got to him just a bit sooner…

Stone didn’t move, didn’t stir at all, as they removed his clothes and cleaned the dirt and blood from his skin.

In doing so, they revealed wounds horribly deep and ragged and layered - bite upon bite and flesh torn deeply into, cloth from his shirt and jeans caught inside, in some places on his wrists bone visible…

But, there were signs of some already starting to heal, his body knitting itself back together, and the only wound that hadn’t even started that yet was on the right side of his neck. That must be where he was fed on most recently.

That had to have been the one that finally killed him, drained what was left of his life away in that dark, cold, squalid cell, while he was chained to the wall, unable to defend himself or do anything to stop it.

Eve was furious. It wasn’t right and he wasn’t fair, and they should have been able to save him in time. That was their job. To save people from threats like this, and they couldn’t save one of their own.

She had killed two vampires in that place. She wished there had been more so she could have taken them out too. Got some sort of revenge.

Not that it would help. It was too late now.

Without an outlet for her rage, Eve fell to despair, and her eyes brimmed with tears again.

Being turned into a vampire aside, what Stone had been through was horrific. Traumatic was an understatement, and he had suffered all that alone while they failed to find him day after day.

Other than Jenkins giving instructions on helping him with bandaging and cleaning, none of them spoke. Eve doubted she could have even if she tried, not without it coming out as a sob.

When finally it was done and they had him cleaned, bandaged, and dressed in his favourite flannel lounge pants with van Gogh’s sunflowers embroidered crudely on - a gift from Cassandra when she got herself a sewing machine - he might almost have looked normal.

Like he was sleeping after a rough mission, and the bandages hid normal injuries, not the bites from multiple vampires and the one bite that killed him.

“How is he?” Cassandra poked her head in through the doorway, grimacing as she glanced to the adjoining bathroom, now decorated with his blood from their haphazard medical treatment.

“Still out,” Eve replied, looking from the door and back to Stone, “But we’ve done what we can for now.”

There was a pause. Silence.

Ezekiel cleared his throat before speaking, his voice cracking on the first attempt before he managed to get it under control, “Well, I stole from a few blood banks. Ones well stocked, so they shouldn’t miss a few packs. Left it all in a cooler in the annex.”

“And I found a spell that should keep him in here, if that’s what we really think is best,” Cassandra continued, “Just need to paint a few sigils around his door and infuse them with an incantation. It’ll be like a window. He can’t pass it but it won’t hurt him.”

“Okay, good. Do that,” Eve said, “And when he wakes up, we give him…we see if he wants…”

“We give him one of the blood bags,” Flynn finished for her, “Which he will need.”

“We do it two of us at a time. One with a sedative on hand in case he becomes violent.”

“But it’s still Stone,” Cassandra argued, “He wouldn’t hurt us, and treating him like…”

“Like a monster,” Ezekiel finished when she broke off, “That’s not gonna help.”

“Do you imagine he would ever forgive himself were he to harm one of us?” Jenkins argued, “He will not be entirely himself. Not until he has mastered this. Colonel Baird is right. We need to be prepared for the possibility of his growing violent.”

Jenkins’ warning made sense, but at first Stone didn’t grow violent at all.

He wasn’t even really lucid for the first few days, but he wasn’t really their Jacob Stone either.

He drank when they brought him some blood. Always barely awake and only a few small sips at first, but then he lifted himself up a bit, grabbed to hold the bag and drink faster. Desperately.

On the sixth day, he grabbed Flynn’s wrist and tried to drag it to him, but he wasn’t strong enough to maintain his grip. They realised later that Flynn had a paper cut, a tiny slice, not too deep, but that had to be what Stone had wanted.

On the seventh day, he was sitting up in the bed when Eve arrived, leaning back against the wall and picking at the bandage on his left wrist with a right hand that looked to be bleeding.

Eve stopped outside the door, watching for a moment.

“This real?”

His voice startled her. It was rough and quiet, but it was the first coherent sound he’d made since they got him back, and she wasn’t prepared for the wave of mixed emotions when she heard it.

“It’s real,” she replied, stepping into the room with Ezekiel half a step behind her. She paused when she caught sight of the shattered mirror in the bathroom, and now his bloody right hand made sense.

She made a mental note that someone needed to clean that up later. Maybe make sure there were no mirrors in the room at all.

Stone’s head raised as she drew closer, eyes taking on that alert sharpness that she had grown used to each time he caught the scent of the blood they brought.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on the bag she held in her hand.

“Stone?”

No reply, and a tensing of muscles like he was about to move.

She quickly back stepped, shoving Ezekiel back through the door and practically falling out of it himself when he launched himself from the bed after her, stopping abruptly at the door.

He fell back against the desk behind him, gripping it tightly and looking as exhausted as before, the brief moment of energy gone.

But his voice was still almost strong as he growled, “Give it to me.”

“Calm down first,” Eve forced her voice to remain calm and unaffected by the sight of her friend so painfully not himself, “Get back into bed. You’re still too injured to be up.”

There was a low growl that sounded utterly inhuman, and Stone continued to glare coldly at her.

It hurt. It hurt unbearably, but she knew what she had to do.

She just couldn’t.

“Haven’t I suffered enough?!” Stone yelled, “I need that!”

“Not til you calm down you don’t,” Ezekiel shouted back.

“We’re trying to help you,” Eve said more gently.

“Help me?” Stone laughed bitterly, “You’re tryin’ to help me? You coulda done that by leavin’ me there! You think they’d have tortured me like this?!”

The vampires had tortured him for almost two weeks. She wouldn’t put it past them.

“We’re here to help our friend, not the vampire! And until we see our Jake Stone again, we’re not giving you anything.”

Ezekiel grabbed the blood bag from Eve and turned, storming away.

“Baird,” Stone pushed himself off the desk and fell against the blank space of his doorway, “Eve. Please.”

“Ezekiel’s right,” she replied softly, stepping closer, “All the things we found suggest it’ll be easier for you to control this early on then trying to do it later. And…”

“Go away,” Stone growled, glaring up at her, “If you ain’t gonna help then leave me the hell alone!”

The shouted words cut right through every wall she had managed to build up.

Jacob Stone didn’t shout. Almost never. Maybe in a heated debate about art or architecture, but rarely even then. He spoke softly, chose his words carefully.

And this creature in front of her wasn’t the same person.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Eve turned and walked away.

“He’s like an addict,” Ezekiel was saying when she reached the annex, “He’s not acting like himself now, but he’s gotta still be in there.”

“The blood lust is making him act on pure instinct,” Flynn nodded, “But we have all seen vampires who have control over that.”

“We know it can be controlled,” Cassandra nodded, “And Stone had the self-control to hide his passions and who he really was from everyone he knew for like two decades. If anyone can do it, he can.”

Jenkins hummed thoughtfully and went to retrieve a book, “And perhaps that passion is how we help get through to Mr Stone…this is the book he was reading before he was taken. He spoke of a paper he was considering based on some arguments made by its author on art as a reaction to imposition by…”

He waved a hand.

“Anyway, the point is, if we can trigger the man we know using his love for art and literature, we may be able to better help him master his condition.”

“We should give him a while to calm down first. He looked ready to kill.”

Cassandra slapped Ezekiel’s shoulder, “He wouldn’t kill us.”

The thief shook his head, “Shoulda seen the look in his eyes.”

“Ezekiel’s right. Jenkins and I will try in a few hours.”

It did work.

It took some time, but before Eve went to bring the blood, Jenkins put a chair outside the door and discussed the contents of that book with Stone, a conversation that gradually began to really sound like him again. When she brought the blood, he was enough himself to be repulsed at first by the idea, and only show that feral expression for a few minutes while he drank, and briefly after it was empty.

After that, whoever brought him his small portion of blood on a given day went armed with something that might get through to the man they knew.

A quote, a book, or maybe a photo of a newly discovered piece of art or architecture, and little by little, their Jake emerged from the feral vampire, and not once did they have to sedate him.

It took almost three months to feel like it really was their friend again, during which everyone else necessarily kept up with the library’s work. Three at a time, either Eve or Flynn taking Stone’s place, and always at least two in the library to make sure Stone continued to improve.

But he did and if it wasn’t for him being locked in one room, or for the fact he preferred drinking blood to beer, Eve might have been able to convince herself nothing had changed.

“We’re thinking of removing the sigils,” Cassandra said one morning as she and Eve sat in the room with Stone while he slowly drank through the blood they brought that day, now in a beer bottle since it was more familiar and normal to him, “So you can get out of here.”

She gestured to the room, which had become filled with books and art portfolios and printed pages, and even his laptop which he never turned off or let the screen darken on, somewhere among them.

He was writing a new paper. His third since his confinement, the isolation and torment to his mind driving him to never want to stop reading or writing or analysing.

He looked up sharply from the picture he’d been examining, “No!”

“Stone, we’re not going to leave you trapped in here. We want you back out with us, as a librarian.”

“How the hell can I still be a librarian?!” he snapped back, the sudden ferocity making Cassandra jump and Eve shift between them.

Stone didn’t miss the movement and he laughed bitterly, “You’re scared of me. An’ you should be. I ain’t human anymore. I ain’t safe to be around any of you. Specially not loose. Out there. The hell happens when I lose control an’ kill some innocent person on a job, or even you?! Assumin’ I can even leave here at all. How many jobs the clippin’ book send us on that happen only at night? Hm? How many? None! I ain’t a librarian anymore an’ you gotta stop tryin’ to pretend I am! You shoulda just left me in that damn place!”

“Stop it!” Eve yelled, louder than Stone’s desperately broken rant and louder than Cassandra’s barely contained crying, “Stop!”

“No!” Stone growled, his fangs bared.

“Yes!” Eve stood, taller than him and not backing down.

He might fight her, but Eve had to believe he wouldn’t really try to kill her, and he was still not fully healed so Eve knew she would at least be able to protect Cassandra.

If it came to that.

But it wasn’t going to because Jacob Stone was still there and he still had the same self-control he had always had. He just had more stuff to control now.

“Be quiet and listen!” Eve continued when Stone made no move, neither backing down, nor attacking.

“You are still a librarian. Nothing is going to change that. Yes, things have changed, and it’s gonna take a while to figure it all out, but things have changed before, and we worked through it. Together. And that’s what we’re gonna do this time.”

“You’re not alone,” Cassandra added quietly behind him, “We want to help you.”

He shook his head, stepping back and dropping back to sit on the bed, “Why? I could kill any of you if I just lost it for just a second. I ain’t useful enough for it to be worth…”

“It’s not about being useful. It’s about us caring about you,” Cassandra said softly, “And nothing is going to change that.”

“What she said,” Ezekiel affected to be casual as he stepped through the door, “Plus we don’t know about all those silly little poets and painty guys you like so much. I sure as hell don’t want to hafta start learning to tell the difference between Cococo and baroque.”

“Rococo,” Stone corrected automatically and in a very familiar way.

“Whatever. Point is, we need you.”

Stone looked away but Eve could still almost see every emotion he was trying to bury and hide.

“Stone,” she sat down on the desk chair opposite him, “Do you still want to be a librarian?”

“‘Course I want to,” Stone whispered with tears glistening on his eyelashes as he closed his eyes, “It’s all I wan’.”

“Then you need access to the whole library, so we’re going to remove the barrier. We trust you.”

He nodded, “Could you just…just gimme a minute?”

They did.

They gave him twenty.

Cassandra removed the barrier on their way out and they went to go and try to look in the clippings book. See what weird stuff was going on.

They all made an effort to act normal when Stone finally joined them, looking almost like his old self, save for the hints of tiredness and slightly self-conscious unease. It was a bit awkward, but it was progress.

Things were going to work out.

Things were working out.

Sort of.

At least, everyone was pretending they were.

The library seemed to be aware, and really it almost certainly was aware, about Stone’s condition. His personal clippings book gave him jobs that he could do at night, enabling him to still be part of the team, and still be a librarian. But he did it almost entirely alone.

The main clippings book still had weird stuff that came up that needed daytime investigations, or which took the librarians into places or situations where there might be too many people for Stone to handle this soon. He was on edge and jumpy and Eve was almost certain he was suffering from trauma after all he had been through, on top of everything else.

He was being distanced by his curse, growing depressed, and distancing himself more.

But they tried to pretend it was okay, and Eve wasn’t sure why but she didn’t know how to escape that loop of false positivity. They were falling apart, and not for the first time.

When this had happened before, there had been a trigger. Something or some machination of the library or someone brought them back together.

She shouldn’t have waited for it to happen, but she did.

The trigger happened when Stone was up one morning, doing research on an artifact that needed retrieving from Norway. Something to do with salmon, Eve guessed, by the printed etchings on one page of the open book. The other page was a language she didn’t recognise, but presumably was among the several dozen Stone could read.

The moment was calm, almost felt normal. Her, Jenkins and Stone working at the central table, Flynn playing chess with Excalibur on the balcony above…

Then the door opened.

The back door, bringing Cassie and Ezekiel back from their job, and with them a shaft of sunlight. The door remained open longer than it should have, the artifact they had being large, carried between them. It held the door open, let the sunlight fall in the room, and illuminate Stone.

Within a second his exposed skin where the sun hit him ignited, bursting into flame.

Eve grabbed her coat from the stool beside her and flung it over him, shoving him away from the shaft of sunlight. At the same time, Jenkins’ lab coat was thrown over him too, and a few moments later water that Flynn had managed to acquire from somewhere. All while Stone was screaming in pain and Cassandra and Ezekiel were trying to get the artifact inside and shut the doors.

Finally the sunlight vanished, the fire was out, and Stone was left trembling violently, holding his severely burned arms away from his body.

For a moment he stayed there, staring at the injuries that on a human would have be bound to scar and take months to heal. Then in a blur - a literal blur of colour and unfocused shape - he had vanished out into the corridor and probably to his room.

That was the trigger that forced them to accept things weren’t working, and spur them into actively putting everything else on hold to find a fix.

They worked all day and all night, and part way through the following day, each taking breaks for sleep when they couldn’t go any longer.

They went through every magic or scientific or historical manuscript or rumour they could find that might have some solution to the sunlight problem. There was that mineral from the sanctuary, but that wouldn’t last more than a few days, and Cassandra didn’t believe the exact duration could be predicted. It could wear off sooner, without warning.

Layers of clothing and parasols and maybe some super strong sunscreen were also proposed, but nothing seemed viable.

At one point or another, they had each gone to check on Stone, but he had told every one of them that he wanted to be alone.

Except Jenkins, who was still with him when Flynn let out a shout of victory.

“I have it!” he thrust a book into the centre of the table, “Or, part of it.”

They all leaned over to look at the photograph of an old, worn scroll spanning both pages.

Eve raised an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to explain.”

“Well, okay, it’s only part of a solution. But here, this spell can protect those afflicted by a curse from external factors causing the curse to harm them. The external factor is the sun, and so this should stop it from interacting with his whole vampire thing and so the sun won’t harm him. Like a sort of shield. Or something. In theory.”

“That’s an awful lot of doubtful qualifications…”

“So, only part of the spell is here, but maybe we can fill in the gaps based on other spells from the same culture.”

“Okay, but magic needs power, focus and effect,” Cassandra mused, “The effect is the protection, but what’s the focus? I mean, the spell but we’d have to tie it permanently to Stone.”

“And how do we get enough power to do something like that?” Ezekiel added, “I’m guessing if it was easy, loads of vampires would do it.”

“Most vampires don’t have the library so would never have found this spell. Or the part of it…anyway! We translate this, fill in the gaps and work from there.”

“The focus!” Cassandra brightened, “The markings from the monkey king’s staff! They have magic already. That’s how we found Stone in the first place. Maybe we can extend them. Use them to bind the spell to Stone.”

”Guys,” Ezekiel interrupted, “We’re talking like he’s gonna agree to this.”

“It could be a way for him to be able to go in the sun again. He could go on missions with us again…”

“You’re suggesting practically carving a spell into a guy who never trusted magic, and trusts it even less now.”

“We used magic to find him.”

“Which he said he doesn’t think we should’ve done.”

“That wasn’t him!”

“Okay, guys,” Eve cut into their argument, “Ezekiel has a point. There’s no point going further into this until we ask Stone if he’s okay with this.”

“We’re also going to need him to translate the spell…” Flynn pointed out, “I mean, I could given time and maybe a bit of leeway for the occasional noun misplaced…but Stone knows this language. He’s translated texts in it before.”

They fell silent for several minutes, Cassandra finally breaking it quietly, “If we all go ask him together, he might feel pressured.”

“So one of us does it.”

Eve knew it fell on her. She was the guardian, and this was a job for a guardian.

She stood slowly, dreading what this question alone might do. Stone had become something he hated and they were about to offer him a small respite from that curse, using something else he hated.

Knocking on the shut door, she heard Stone’s voice from inside, “You don’t need to be so formal, Baird.”

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Stone and Jenkins were playing an old Norse game, one she didn’t remember the names or rules of, and the pieces laid out on the leather board meant nothing to her.

The worst of his burns had been bandaged, but the less severe ones were still visible on his arms and neck and one side of his face. Already they were better than when Eve last saw him, probably thanks in part to the beer bottle of blood beside Stone on the table.

It looked like a calm moment. Companionable and pleasant. And she was about to ruin it.

“We have a plan. An idea of how we might be able to protect you from the sun.”

Stone looked up, and now Eve saw what she had feared. Exhaustion and despair barely hidden, Stone’s mask worn threadbare by the months of this curse and the torture that led to it.

“Alright,” he said softly.

“You haven’t even heard what it is.”

“It doesn’t matter. Things can’t stay as they are. I’m a burden to you all and to the library, and…”

“Jake…”

He shook his head and continued over her argument, “An’ if there’s a way to change that, I don’ care what it is. I’ll do it.”

He paused, looking directly back at her, “But if it doesn’t, you gotta stop tryin’ to help me.”

Eve didn’t want to agree to that. Agree to give up, but there was an expression of sadness so deep in Stone’s eyes that she found herself nodding, silently consenting to give up on him if this failed.

Stone didn’t seem happy, merely resigned, as they worked out the spell they needed and how to carry it out. But the work of translating various texts from the same era occupied him enough that Eve saw him look at least contented. Just not happy. And he never really smiled, not properly.

And now, after days of work, and a very painful few hours of Cassandra verbally burning sigils into his skin, extending the markings all down his right arm, they were ready to try.

“You sure about this?” Stone asked, for probably the fifth time, “‘Cus you know, spontaneously burstin’ into flames ain’t that fun.”

It hadn’t been fun for them either.

Sitting out in the open in Shangri-La, two fire blankets within easy reach, Eve feared the psychological consequences if this failed, more than the physical ones.

The night sky was already lightening.

Any second now the sun would breach the horizon and cast its rays onto them.

They didn’t move, barely breathed, as the first sector of the sun was seen, orange and warm, stretching over the mountain but not yet reaching them.

It extended.

The light hit their feet first, and Stone instinctively flinched although his boots protected him there.

Eve watched him.

He didn’t close his eyes.

He watched intently as the sun rose further, tensed as the light touched his exposed forearms.

A wince. The marks now extending down the entire of his right arm glowed red, sizzled, then settled back to black.

The sun rose further, bathing them in light, and no fire.

None of them spoke until long after the sun had fully escaped the horizon. Just in case a sound in that perfect morning would break the spell.

An hour, two hours, and still the fire blankets remained untouched.

Later they would repeat the test, outside of the magic city. Even if it worked, they would still never go out without at least one fire suppression method close at hand. Just in case.

But the spell had worked, at least in this moment, and Eve had felt a warmth far deeper than the sun could ever gift at the sight of Stone smiling, really, genuinely, smiling, as he turned his face to the gentle glow of the early morning light.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #Day 26: Curse #the librarians #jacob stone #cw fire #cw flames #vampire jacob stone #cw blood #cw torture #masks whump art

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bluemoon1331 · 9 days ago

Text

Just gonna dump the notes on the last couple AUs I have in there. This one is the Fading Stars AU, that one where Y/N is a prisoner on a spaceship from a while back.

You weren't meant to be here. Little more than a cannon fodder prisoner sent on a mission to explore a new planet, all hope lost after being framed for a crime you did not commit.

However, things aboard Dreamcatcher I quickly unveil themselves to not be what they seem, foul play suspected in the death of a crewmate, while whispers of a stowaway and mutiny spread.

Caught in the web, you're forced to fight for survival as your destination grows closer, forming a strange alliance with the two robots meant to be running upkeep of the ship and guarding you.

Can you really trust your new friends, though? Who or what really set this mission in motion, and what is its real goal? Why, of all inmates, are you here? The line between friend and foe, truth and lie, blur every second to the inevitable touchdown, and arrival to the surface promises no end to the mystery, each step descending you deeper and deeper into a labyrinth you can't help feel you were never supposed to escape from alive.

Crew is Glamrocks (including Bonnie), Ballora, Circus Baby, and Michael and Vanessa

Michael is captain, Vanessa is co-captain

Freddy is the leader among the animatronics, running meetings with the captains, crafting schedules, keeping up morale, and ensuring everyone and everything is going right when the captains are busy with their own tasks

Roxy runs navigation, planning routes, keeping a constant eye for changes, and assisting with piloting and engineering when necessary.

Monty plays as head of security and the weapons expert, clearing their path of debris as needed.

Chica is the chef and janitor, ensuring the ship is kept tidy and everyone is charged/fed for the entirety of the trip.

Bonnie was meant to run diagnostics and communication, til unfortunate things happened.

Sun is the ship's head mechanic, there for every dent, ding, and critical emergency. He also pulls as guard duty when Moon needs to go elsewhere.

Moon is the one in charge of prisoner guarding, serving as a second in command of sorts to both Monty and Sun when either require his cunning tactical strength or assistance fixing something in places Sun can't as easily reach or requires a second pair of hands.

Ballora is the ship's doctor, a job she is proud of and takes seriously, performing thorough checks on all her patients and updating software and parts when needed.

Circus Baby acts as the ship's software engineer, working in tandem with Bonnie until his untimely demise. She also runs the records for the crew, ensuring data stays intact for return to home base. Took over the rest of Bonnie's tasks as well afterwards, though messages back and forth with base have been oddly laggy and drawn out, even for the distance they're traveling...

Bonnie eavesdropped a communication between base and the boys he wasn't supposed to. Got ground in the garbage disposal for his troubles.

The stowaway is Foxy, intent to stop whatever madness is about to occur, even though he's already too late...

Your ancestors came to Earth ages ago, one of the few remaining of an alien race that pretty much went extinct, and they need you to get to their goal, hence the framing.

Eclipse was sent ahead ages ago, part of a smaller team, but they lost communication when he landed. Find his pod at some point, then him later (only survivor).

The boys' secret goal: keep you alive at all costs.

Goal they achieved: fall hard and fast, uh oh.

The mutiny is led by Monty, Circus, and Ballora, none of them quite trusting anything about this very strange mission to the rim, especially after the death of their close friend

Prevent stars from dying? But something went horribly wrong when your ancestors made it

God complex, manipulative Afton (of course)

Foxy overheard the plan (including what they were gonna do/use you for) and rushed to intervene. Meant to get you out before takeoff but his stupid ass forgot to charge and enters a stasis mode upon sneaking into the ship. Tries to act in the shadows when he wakes because he doesn't trust anyone aboard, but can't get close to you.

Sun and Moon don't know you're not guilty at first, nor that you know literally nothing about what's happening.

#Sci fi ftw #Fading Stars AU #au madness #fnaf #Sun #Moon #montgomery gator fnaf #roxanne wolf fnaf #glamrock chica #glamrock bonnie #glamrock freddy #glamrock foxy #circus baby fnaf #ballora fnaf #michael afton #vannessa fnaf #eclipse fnaf #william afton

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bluewavesofchange · 7 months ago

Text

The guardians of the Pharaoh

Sea and shadows: the Queens of the abyss.

I don't own Yugioh or it's characters

No warnings for the chapter.

Chapter 3

While Lillian was once again thrown into yet another life threatening event for the third in 24 hours, everyone else had started to awaken. Taking in their surroundings and trying to figure out where they were. Téa gets attacked and captured by a group of Hitotsu-Me giants, Tristian and Duke find some axes to try and chop their way out of the hallway they were trapped in, Joey was wondering around aimlessly in the endless corridors of the castle he was stuck in, Serenity gets chased by some kind of dinosaur, Seto and Mokuba somehow end up in front of the orphanage they were left at after their parents passed away (more on that later) and Yugi well…he ends up at a pond and is confronted by one of the Big 5; Gansely to be specific who had taken the form of the Deep Sea warrior…because of course that’s normal.

Rozu had wondered around this strange world after awakening, whatever this was it was strange…nothing was real and yet it felt as real as the human world, it was a maze of moving landscapes and duel monsters…it felt almost like her home world…and yet it wasn’t. She felt no life here; everything was artificial with no soul…we except for the handful of human souls that were trapped here…7 of which had peaked her interests. 5 were nothing more than powerful men that had fallen from grace and become nothing more than lost souls in this virtual prison. The other was a little boy heal bent on revenge and the other…the other stayed hidden in the shadows, watching everything unfolding from a distance.

She didn’t know who he was but she could sense the depravity that festered in his spirit, the wickedness and narcissism that littered his aura and the sadism that bled through his mind. It reminded her of her father and that just made her bristle with anger. She would enjoy ripping him to pieces and feasting on his soul…not that she cared who he was, she just hated things that reminded her of her father.

But he was difficult to find, hidden deep in the bowls of this place. She would have to wait until he made himself known…for now she went searching for the pharaoh and his little lover boy. She stayed in the shadows as she watched the once mighty Atem struggling against a fish man and was that a Kuriboh busy trying to help him? She hadn’t seen one of those puff balls in years…they were her first creation after her father had passed. They were sweet little balls of darkness that were meant to keep her company and entertain her (in all honest they were failed attempts at flesh devouring beasts that were meant to eliminate the last of her father’s servants and followers and she just couldn’t find it in her heart to get rid of the cuddly little pomp pomp’s).

She had a whole hoard of them before she left the monster world…she wondered if any of them were still alive.

She watched as the Pharaoh struggle to defeat the fish man, a smirk forming on her face as she watched him get his by an attack and fall to the ground. A few shadows emerge from the darkness, one of them moving up her arm and nuzzling her cheek before moving up to her ear and whispered softly, “I suppose you’re right. We should help him out. It doesn’t help he dies before we get the chance for revenge…I want to hear him scream and beg for mercy as I pull his spirit apart bit by bit…” the shadow disappears and Rozu fades into the darkness…

Yami didn’t like what was happening, why do they always seem get dragged into some kind of nonsense involving Kaiba? This had nothing to do with them and yet here they were forced to duel (because that’s the normal thing to do in this universe) to keep their bodies from being taken by 5 ex-executive men (yes…that’s what’s going on here. The sentences this story makes me write).

After waking up in this virtual world he had to watch as his little angel search for his friends before being confronted by Gansely, one of the big 5 and forced into a duel, Yami taking over to face the fish man. The duel’s new Deck Master aspect was interesting to say the least…Kuriboh ending up as his somehow…he was annoyed at first because what could this hair ball do to help him. But Yugi managed to convince the spirit to give the small monster a chance and so he did, putting his faith in his deck master.

But he was struggling with this duel; Gansely’s deck was impressive to say the least, his attacks getting redirected back at him and ever blast was like a punch to the gut, the last burst of energy knocking him to the ground. This wasn’t good, he needed to come up with a plan or else both he and Yugi were gonna be stuck here forever…

He felt something hairy nuzzling his face, Yami’s eyes opening as he grunted, his body aching from the blast. He was met with a face full of Kuriboh, the little creature looking worried as he kept trying to nudge the pharaoh to help him stand. Yami somehow gets to his feet, he looked at Kuriboh and gently ruffled its head, the monster purring softly before his eyes widened, his hair standing up everywhere as tried to hide under Yami’s jacket, obviously seeing something that frightened it. Yami was nearly pushed over by the small beast, grabbing hold of it as it was flailing around, a frown on the teens face. Yugi comes out of the puzzle and floats beside Yami, ~What’s going on with him? ~ He asks the spirit through their link. The pharaoh glances at the other, ~I’m not sure. He just started freaking out. ~

He keeps trying to calm Kuriboh down as Yugi notices the water in front of them starting to bubble, the grass around the embankment dying and spreading fast. ~Yami look! ~ He alerts the pharaoh who turns his attention to wilting vegetation around them; the death reached the trees, crawling up the bark like an infection, the leaves catching fire. Gansely was look around bewildered as the water beneath his feet had turned into black boiling ooze, steam rising from the gunk. He tried to reach Noah to ask him what was going and if there was an error in the system or something.

Noah received the man alert and pulled up his screen, raising a brow when he saw what was happening to the area where Gansely and Yugi were duelling. What the heck? He leaned in to get a closer look as red error message started flashing over the screen as the image starts glitching. The letters start to morph into an evil looking face that laughs at him before the image goes black. Was this the virus that had invaded his system?

Yami pulls Kuriboh into his arms to protect it as he activates the puzzle to pull Yugi’s transparent form back into it to keep him safe from whatever was going here…he could feel a darkness approaching him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he searched around for the source of this evil, Kuriboh making distressed noises. Gansely glares at the spikey haired teen as more trees and plants catch fire as a raging fire surrounds them, “Is this your doing?!”

Suddenly the bubbling ooze explodes with black steam, filling the area and darkening the space, Yami and Gansely covering their eyes with their eyes to protect their vision from the hot gas. They couldn’t even see what was in front of them anymore.

All that could be heard for a moment was a hissing sound of the steam and the crackling of the fire burning down the surrounding woods. Yami was starting to have trouble breathing as the smoke and steam was filling his airways, a horrible cough starting to wreck him, Kuriboh looking up at the teen, his eyes filled with concern for the teen as he collapses to his knees, holding his neck as he tries to breath. Yugi could see what was happening to his partner and was panicking as he couldn’t get out of the puzzle to help him, Yami keeping Yugi inside the safety of the mystical item.

Within Yugi’s soul room he was banging on the door trying to get out as he could Yami’s soul fading slowly. He is aware of the flames surrounding them and the smoke inhibiting the pharaoh. The short teen needed to do something, he couldn’t lose Yami like this again but there was nothing he could do…

Gansely lowered his arm and tried to see through the dense steam and smoke when he hears a soft humming coming from within the darkness…seeing a shadowy figure slowly approaching him. He gets into a defensive stance before the silhouette slowly become clearer as his breath is nearly taken away…before him stood a tall woman dressed in a black revealing dress, her skin was beautifully tanned, her red hair flowing behind her like streams of a smooth wine, her golden eyes glimmering in the darkness like the sun, her arms covered in strange markings, her curved hips swaying as she walked, her toned stomach on full display, the bindings holding up her breasts just barely containing them and her lips blood red framing her perfect white teeth as she smirked at the man.

She slowly approached the man who was transfixed by her ethereal beauty, if he wasn’t a dignified man he would be drooling right now. Her skin looked like caramel and he wanted to taste it. She stopped just a few feet from him, raising her hand and motioning with her finger for him to come to her. Not even questions how such a woman could be here or even why, Gansely runs over to the goddess, entrapped by her trance. He stands before her as she towers over him, her breasts in line with his face. He wants to reach out and touch them but doesn’t as he didn’t know if he was allowed to even gaze upon her. She leans down, her hands on his face as he removes the weird helmet he was wearing exposing his face.

He doesn’t realize that he has fallen deep into her trap as she grips his forearms and moves them to rest on her waist, her fingers tracing over his duel disk, finding the clasp and unlocking it, letting it fall to the ground, effectively eliminating him from the duel. Gansely can’t take his eyes off her and is about to lean in for a kiss when a shadow shoots out of the water and wraps around his throat, squeezing it tightly. Two more grab his arms and more entrap his legs. He starts to struggle as the pupils of the woman’s eyes turn to slits, her mouth open to reveal elongated canines, the sides of her cheeks splitting open as her jaw unhinges like a snakes. He watches in horror as she slowly grows larger, a hiss leaving her throat before she laughs, diving in and silencing the scream that leaves Gansely’s lips, swallowing the man whole.

Yami vision was getting blurry with tears as the smoke and heat from the flames was burning his eyes as he couldn’t to struggle to breath. He thought to himself if this was what Yugi had to suffer through when he was rebuilding the Millennium puzzle in the middle of the burning building. But unlike last time he wouldn’t let Yugi suffer, he would take the pain and the torment as long as it meant that his little angel wouldn’t suffer. Kuriboh as still trying to help, forcing himself under Yami’s arm to get him to stand to guide him away from the flames and smoke but the pharaoh was too weak to stand…

Yugi kept banging against the door, tears streaming down his face as he could feel how the other was suffering, he was screaming at the top of his lungs for Yami to let him out but there was no answer…Yugi’s hands were shaking and red from slamming into wooden door…emotions of fear and terror filling him…sparks start to fly from his fingertips, his amethyst eyes glowing brightly as he lets out a desperate cry as his body explodes in a great big ball of light, filling the puzzle with its blinding glow.

A beam of light shoots out the eye of the Millennium Puzzle, lighting up the area as figure small figure emerges from the ancient relic, standing before Yami as a set of large white wings spreads for the persons back, giving a hard flap, sending a gust of wind through the space, blowing away the smoke and steam, extinguishing the flames.

Yami is panting heavily as he is no longer threated to be suffocated by the polluted air. His vision clears slightly as his sight is meant with something truly breathe taking…there before him stood Yugi glowing with a gentle light, his normally tri-coloured hair was now completely golden, a halo circled his head, his clothes were pure white and a set of the most beautiful wings he had ever seen was gracefully moving behind the boy…he truly looked like an angel…his perfect little angel that had saved him yet again.

Yugi’s eyes slowly opened, meeting the others gazes, the purple hues of his pupils were a swirling pond of magical energy. He floats over to Yami and holds out his hand, a soft gentle smile on his face. The spirit takes his hand his body becomes engulfed with a glowing light, restoring his strength. He’s able to stand on his own as Kuriboh is chirping with joy as he bops around both the boys.

Yugi giggles softly as he watches the creature being so happy, meanwhile Yami could not take his eyes off his Aibou and how beautiful he looked in this moment, he reached over and caressed his cheek, returning Yugi’s attention to him. The boys stare deeply into each other’s eyes as they lean in closer, their faces so close that they could feel the others breath against their skin, their lips just a so close…but the light around Yugi fades as his angelic wings disappear and he returns to normal, the boy passing out into Yami’s arms, his body becoming transparent again.

Rozu didn’t have much time to enjoy her meal as she was blown back by a gust of wind, being knocked back into the blackened water, the boiling liquid burning her skin (not that it bothered her, she’d been through worse). She growled as she sat up quickly, scanning the area for what had attacked her, only to freeze and her eyes widen when she caught sight of Yugi…he looked just like her sister in this moment. She knew that both Yugi and Heba possible had some of the goddess of lights powers but this…it was like he had basically taken the roll of this other worldly creature…he had taken her sisters place…

This was not good…if he could tap into that unbridled angelic power and learned how to use it, he could seriously harm Rozu…and possibly destroy her…she needed to be careful and change her plans…if she wanted to get to Atem, she needed to find a way to deal with Yugi. She needed to learn more about this boy and what the reach of his power was. The shadows slowly surrounded her body slowly became smaller as it shifted.

Yami holds Yugi close, worried about his little one as his spirit felt weak. Yugi whimpers softly as he looks up the other, ~Are you alright? ~ The spirit shakes his head as he chuckles, ~You can barely stand and you’re asking me if I’m alright? ~ Yugi pouts as a small blush forms on his face, ~ You nearly died! And you kept me in the puzzle! ~ He tears up as Yami smiles softly, ~ And you saved my life once again. I am forever grateful for you my little Aibou. ~ If he could kiss Yugi he would but he was remind of another problem as he helps the shorter teen stand, looking around at the ruined landscape, his eyes landing on the space where Gansely had stood, only to find the spot empty. Where did he go?

Before he could do come up with a thought, both boys heard a little girl crying somewhere. Yugi decided to take over and searched around, following the sound, eventually finding a smouldering tree near the edge of the now polluted water…and there sat a little girl with curly red locks wearing a frilly long sleeved dress, knee high socks and buckled shoes. She was hugging her legs to her chest hiding her face in her knees. Yugi slowly approached the girl, wondering where she had come from and how she got there, “Um…hello?” he speaks softly but the girl still jumps when she hears him, looking up at him with frightened eyes, “WH…who are you?! Stay away from me!” she looked at him with big brown eyes as she gets up and backs away

Yugi stops and holds up his hands, a soft smile on his face, “Hey its ok. You don’t need to be afraid of me.” She didn’t look convinced but he kept calm and kept talking, “My name is Yugi Muto. What’s yours?” she sniffles softly as she wipes the tears from her cheeks, “Ro…Rosie.”

“That’s a nice name. How did you get here Rosie?”

“I don’t know. I was out with my mom when we were attacked by some guys and next thing I knew I was waking up here and my mommy was gone.” She starts crying again as Yugi took a few steps towards her and kneeled down in front of her, resting his hand on her shoulder, “It’s gonna be ok. I’m sure your mommy is around here somewhere.”

~If that’s the case then she’s probably burned to death by now.~ Yami said in a snarky manner as he looked at the little girl from his place beside Yugi. Something about this didn’t feel right…something about this little girl was off. She could be a trick from Noah and his goons because seriously how did a child end up here and have survived that inferno when Yami barely survived and better yet where was Gansely?? Yugi glared at the other, ~That’s rude.~ he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the little girl, “Here you go.”

She carefully takes it and cleans her face, “Th…thank you.” Yugi smiled as he stood up, “You’re welcome. Hey my friends and sister are missing too. Maybe we could look for them together.” He needed to find them, he feared for what dangers they could be in, especially his wounded sister…

Rosie nodded slowly as she lifted up her arms, Yugi bending down slowly and picking her up, the little girl wrapping around him to hold onto him, “You’re really nice.” she giggles softly as the short teen chuckled and blushed softly, Yami rolling his eyes at this. He didn’t like this child…as if hearing his thoughts she looked in the spirits direction, her eyes flashing gold for a moment before returning to normal. Yami frowned and was about to say something when a path seemed to form amongst the burnt trees, clearly showing them where to go…

Noah finally got the screen working again and to his shock the landscape was destroyed and both Gansely and Yugi were missing…

Meanwhile the Kaiba brothers were taking a trip down memory lane…they were standing in front of the horror house that was the orphanage they were sent to years ago…they watched as they were dropped off at the gate, left there to rot while their family stole their inheritance money…

Seto watches the younger versions of themselves are taken inside the building by the caretaker. He gazes around at their surroundings, the details that this virtual world was capable of was immaculate. He could even smell the dust and decay that was imbedded in this god forsaken place.

His eyes land on a group of children that were watching their younger selves…seeing a familiar face…all the other kids leave but one stayed…a little girl dressed in a worn out lavender coloured sweater, her raven hair blowing in the wind, her blue eyes fixed on the two of them before she turned and walked away. She may be younger here but he knew it was Lillian, he never forgot the day they met and the sad loneliness that plagued her eyes…

Seto and Mokuba followed the pathway leading to the back of the orphanage and watched at the next scene unfold…they saw little Lillian sitting by herself on a bench while the other children were playing, watching as some brat with a baseball bat and his cronies harass the girl, grabbing her and shoving her to the ground before a younger Seto comes to her aid, hitting the bully and chasing him off…The brunet didn’t know what drew him to her that day, at first he always believed it was because he didn’t like seeing a defenceless girl getting attacked by a group of assholes but he knew there was a deeper reason…something that drew the two of them together…

He watched as the younger version of himself took out his handkerchief and cleaned the scrape on the little girl’s cheek, their eyes meeting…suddenly the scene changes…

Its night…the brothers find themselves on the steps of the museum…a hard wind is blowing as thunder and lightning rages in the background…Mokuba is confused as to why they were here before his gaze lands on another version of his brother standing in front of Lillian…the two were shouting at each other…Seto felt his heart sink…he knew this moment all too well…

“For heaven’s sake no you don’t!” a bolt of lightning flashes through the sky, “You don’t need to be the best, not for your brother, not for me, not for anyone. It’s what you’re step father wanted and right now you’re acting just. Like. HIM!” Seto saw red when those words flooded his ears…images flooding through his mind, words, insults and a cruel laugh echoes in his ears. He saw his step father standing in front of him, smirking at the teen…the brunet wanted this to stop as he shook, and raising his fist…

Mokuba can’t look away and flinches as he watches his brother strike his girlfriend out of anger…

Another bolt cracks in the air as a second later Lillian is on the ground, slowly sitting up as she was held the side of her face, pain spreading through her cheek. It happened so fast, one second she was standing and the next she was on the ground. She looked up at Seto, he was breathing heavily as he had a nasty snarl on his face, his fists clenched at his sides.

He glared down at her…how dare she say such a thing to him! He wasn’t his step father! He wasn’t that monster that robbed him of his childhood and stole his innocence! He wasn’t—

His eyes met Lillian’s, seeing the tears forming in her eyes, the skin on her cheek bone starting to turn red beneath her trembling fingers. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes slowly widening as he comes to his senses. His anger quickly turning to dread as he realizes he had struck her…he had hit the girl he loved, he had let his anger and ego over take him and he laid his hand on the person that had been consoled him when his father had beaten him…he paled as he saw the fear in her eyes, a fear he knew all to well only this was worse because it was someone she loved that had hurt her.

The moment mirrors the couple’s first meeting only this being a much more horrible version of it…

He reached out towards her, wish to help her up and comfort her, “Lil I’m—“ she didn’t let him finish as she smacked his hand away and got up quickly, rushing to her bike, not bothering to put on her helmet as she started the engine and drove off as fast as she could. Thunder rumbled above the city as the first drops of rain fell over the town, Seto still standing where Lillian had left him…devastation setting in as the rain poured down, soaking the CEO as he stares in the direction his beloved took off in before looking down at his hands which were shaking, “What have I done?” he whispers to himself…

Seto watches her drive away as the rain starts the pour, Noah’s voice echoing around the them as he laughs, “My my Seto, I knew you were a piece of work Set but this takes things to a new long.” Kaiba’s fingers curled into a fist as his trembled both with anger and hatred, at who wasn’t clear, whether it was at Noah for throwing this moment back in his face or at himself for one of the worst moments in his life. “But then again all you do is cause the people in your life pain and suffering…” Mokuba looks up at his brother, reaching up and resting his hand on his brothers forearm, Seto looks down at his brother and he slowly calms down, “No you don’t big brother…”

He didn’t understand what was going on or why this was happening to them but he would stand by his big brother and defend him every step of the way…because that’s what family does…and because he knew that Seto regretted every one of the horrible things he had ever made in his life and made up for them by taking care of both him and Lillian...

The scene changes at they are back at the orphanage, the brothers standing in front of a window, watching as their younger selves were playing board games, chess to be exact, Lillian was sitting with them as Seto was trying to teach her how to play. Seto watched the cute little expression on her face as she concentrated, her lips in a soft pout and her eyes narrowed…she had the same expression even today when she was focusing hard on something...

He watches as she loses the game yet again and the younger version of himself playfully taunting her, the girl glaring at him as he rests the board and they go again while little Mokuba watches…she’s about to lose again but grabs little Seto’s queen, the little boy frowning and tries to grab it back. She keeps it out of reach and sticks out her tongue as she stands up and runs off, the kid chasing him as Mokuba laughs at their antics…

This was one of Seto’s fondest memories…a day where they goofed around and messed with each other, where they could play and just have fun while being themselves. However this day was special for another reason…

On that same day a family had come to the school and were impressed by Seto and wanted to adopt him but when he asked if he could bring Mokuba and Lillian with, they shook their heads…saying that they didn’t have enough money to take care of 3 additional children…this was one of the reasons Seto had come up with the plan to get adopted by the bastard Gozuburo and leave Lillian behind…sure he had money but he wouldn’t risk the man refusing him by involving another child for him to adopt…

After the family left with another child Mokuba had run off, heading to the park where the brothers use to play when their parents were still alive…Lillian and Seto had gone to find him, finding him exactly where the older brother thought he would be. Mokuba had taken the death of their parents very hard and even though the accident had been a few months before, the wound was still fresh…he missed his mom and dad…the holidays they would take, birthdays, Christmas’s…he missed his mother’s smile, the chicken noodle soup she would make when they were sick or her roast duck and vegetables on cold winters days or how she would tuck both boys in at night and sing to them…and their father, how he would pick them up when they got hurt or play with them in the backyard, the funny faces he would make during dinner time and the bad jokes he would make when they were sad to cheer them up…

While Mokuba took the loss hard, Seto had buried those emotions deep down, believing he needed to be brave for his little brother, to take the role of parental figure in the small boy’s life because all the other grown-ups had failed them both. He never properly grieved the loss of his parents and never thought of them as those emotions were locked away so far in his heart that they were untouchable at this point…to Seto there were only two people who were his family and that was Mokuba and Lillian…

The brother’s watched as they 3 kids were walking along the peer, heading back to the orphanage, little Seto trying to cheer little Mokuba up, trying to reassure him that everything was going to be ok but it wasn’t working…little Lillian took another approach…she grabbed the small kids arm and dragged him to a wooden staircase that led to the beach. Little Seto chased after them, asking the girl what she was thinking…she smiled at him and the only things she said was ‘beach day’. And sure enough that’s what they did…

The little boys had stripped down to their underwear while Lillian kept her shirt and shorts on. The 3 kids playing and splashing around in the soft, gentle waves that were crashing into the shore, their laughter filling the air as they kept trying to dunk each other in the water. As the sun was setting they sat on the beach to dry, Lillian ask if Mokuba was feeling better. The boy nodded but said that he still missed his parents. Seto said that it would be ok and that they were a family now…this surprised Lillian as she looked at the boy in shock. He simply smiled and said that he would be the day, Mokuba the child and Lillian could be the mom that cleaned the clothes and dishes and cooked dinner. Her face went red with rage and embarrassment as she got up to grab the boy and shake him but he got up quickly and ran off as he laughed, Mokuba watching the two of them as he got up and giggled as he chased after Seto too.

And true to Seto’s words from that day, the 3 of them were still a family…a little damaged and hurt but a family none the less. Mokuba looked up at his big brother, “You still kept your word from that day big brother…” he smiled at the teen who simply nodded as he continued to watch the scene in front of him till lightning flashes across the sky and the scene changes again, Noah laughing, “Some family you have their eh Seto. Especially when you keep abandoning them and letting them get hurt.”

The scenery changes and the boys are in Seto’s office the day he left after losing to Yugi…he is shown how his brother is taken by Pegasus’s men…the scene changes again to Battle City and how both Lillian and Mokuba were taken by Marik…his brother hanging out of a helicopter and Lillian’s necklace being used to taunt him by Lumous.

He reaches into his pocket and pulled out set necklace…staring at the pendant as Noah snickers, “You just can’t seem to protect the things you hold most dear…”

The scene changes again to duellist kingdom…replaying the events that transpired that fateful day…

Eventually she found the cells, relieved she rushed over to the one holding Mokuba. The boy looked up when he heard her come in, “Lillian!” she rushed over to the bars, “I’m here kiddo. Your brothers here too.” She started to look around for a set off keys. Mokuba was overjoyed; his brother was here to rescue him. However his joy was short lived as when the alarms went off in the tunnels, “Shit.” Lillian mumbles as she finally finds a set of keys and heads over to the cell, trying to rush to unlock the cell door.

But just as she was about to get it open, 3 guards come running in. Lillian manages to grab her combat knife from her boot and tries to fight them off, she stabs one in the leg, slices another’s arm and kick’s another in the stomach. She tries to get to the gate to get the youngest Kaiba brother but is grabbed by the man she kicked, he has his arm around hers pinning them to her side. She tries to kick and squirm but the man has a good grip on her, “Let her go!” Mokuba shouts as he tries to get to the bars but is held back by the chains around his ankles.

“I don’t think they will Little Mokuba.” She stopped struggling as she hears a familiar voice, seeing Pegasus enter the room, “You.” She snapped at the game maker as she kicks back, nailing the guy in the groin. He groans as he lets go of her, she picks up her weapon and charges at Pegasus but she is grabbed again, this time by the two men she had wounded. Each one had a grip on her arms, forcing her to her knees. She glares daggers at the white haired man, “You going to let your lackey’s do all the work?”

“Well that’s what they’re paid for. Take her to the viewing room and make sure she’s secure. This one’s a fighter.” Pegasus ordered as he approached the girl, leaning down to sneer at her gloat as she reached for the back of her neck, unclasping her Blue Eyes necklace, removing it from her person, “I’ll be needing this.” She spat in his face, glaring at the man as he pulls out a handkerchief to clean his face. He nods at the men as they drag Lillian away, “And make sure you get yourselves taken care of. You’re fired if I find a single drop of blood on my rugs.”

It’s strange how all these people used this necklace to torment Seto…a thing that was held over him whenever Lillian was taken from him…it was a special gift between the two of them, a symbol of the bond between them and the trust they had in each other. And every evil person that makes their way into Seto’s life used this symbol against him…

Tears started streaming down her cheeks as Pegasus sips his wine, “Well it would seem this is the end for you my dear…I just hope you don’t make too much of a mess…” he smirks as the man puts his finger on the trigger…this couldn’t be the end of her…this couldn’t be the end of her love…there had to be something she could do…slowly some of her tattoos started glowing as well as her eyes just like before…

Seto closes his fingers around the pendant as he starts shaking again…a burning pain starting to emit in his side...Noah continues to taunt him, “Ever wondered if she would’ve been better off without you? If Mokuba would be better without you?” his laugh echoes through the air as the scene goes back and the brothers are back at the orphanage, their younger selves sitting on the swing sets on the playground with Lillian, “Just image what a better life she would’ve been without you…”

Seto looked at the young version of Lillian, the happy carefree smile on her face…no fear of people trying to hurt her to get to Seto…she had nearly died twice now to two maniacs to torment him…the pain he was feeling grows worse as he grunts, moving his hand to his side…what was going on?

He looks down at the pendant and the sapphire eyes glow, the heck? He hears…Lillian’s voice calling out to him…calling for help…the pain becomes too much, it feels like his on fire, his organs burning as he falls to his knees, gripping his coat as he clenches his teeth, breathing heavily…

Mokuba is at his side the instant his brother keeled over, but before he could do anything, Seto lets out a scream of agony and the world is engulfed in a white light…

When the light fades both brothers are laying passed out on the ground…and Lillian’s necklace was missing from Seto’s hand…

#yugioh #yami yugi #yugi mutou #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #puzzleshipping #alternate universe #fantasy #ocs #fanfic

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rookedcrow · 2 months ago

Note

[ reunion ] a longing kiss shared after being apart for a while

she can hear voices --- emmrich. taash. lucanis? lucanis!

varric ( or the memory of her friend, anyway — her head was still reeling over the revelation he’d been gone this entire time. it felt as if she’d been knocked around all over again ) had told her to listen --- not always her strongest attribute, but now seemed like as good a time as ever to try and fix it. she’s wary for a moment; afraid this is just another one of solas’ little tricks. after all, he’d already seen to it she had to face bellara and harding for the choices she’d made; seen lucanis’ body laid out motionless and cold at her feet … why not rub a little extra salt in the wound? ------- but the voices sound different; they sound clearer the closer she gets to them. they aren’t coming from the prison, they aren’t there to castigate. and when she hears lucanis say ‘rook!’

..... he’s alive?

“here! i’m here!” she shouts without knowing if they can hear her; the fact that the conversation on the other side of the distortion carries on as if they can’t sends a painful jolt of panic through her. let me out, let me out! she doesn’t have the dagger anymore, and she certainly doesn’t have a drop of magic flowing through her veins … i need to get out!

if she has to figure out a way to claw through the veil on her own, she will. she moves towards the voices, scurrying up a staircase that looks brittle enough to crumble and send her plummeting into the unknown below again if she so much as puts one foot out of place. “i’m here! emmrich? taash?” she takes a moment to look back over her shoulder --- back at where she’d left varric behind again. one more chance to say goodbye ------ before hands and arms begin to reach through the fade for her. the shouting gets louder; conversations overlapping one another as she hears someone yell ‘pull!’ while another voice shouts they’ve got her...

she’s out.

isn’t she? the light here is brighter, the air feels warmer in her lungs — her first few steps feel more like a foal with it’s knees knocked together than a sure - footed assassin; she practically trips over her own feet trying to get away from the tear they’d made in the fade to get to her. his is the first face she looks for in the group; the need to make sure what solas had shown her had been a well crafted lie --- because it had been devastatingly effective. ( she’d heard his voice! that had to mean what she’d seen before had been an illusion. it had to. she’s already lost bellara ... already lost harding ... the thought of losing him too … ) “lucanis!”

arms extended, practically flailing, eager to touch him — determined to touch him — the need to make sure he’s real has her grasping at whatever she can get to first as soon as she’s able to break away from emmrich and taash. “you were dead too,” she manages to get out before her lungs run out of air; the next breath in is staccato and rough. taash calls for neve somewhere to her right, but she doesn’t follow their voice or look to see. “bellara and lace and you,” his hands settle on either side of her face briefly and she feels herself begin to fall apart ---- the anger, the grief, the fear … the relief; all of it washes over her at once as she pulls him closer by his shirt, clawing at fabric until her hands finally still themselves at the back of his neck, curling into his hair. the kiss that follows doesn’t bring to bear any of the uncertainty or despair she’d been feeling — it’s far more eager; determined. the sort of kiss that carries all those emotions along every time her teeth snag themselves on his lower lip. it feels real. this feels real. he feels real.

she’ll apologize later ---- they’ve been mindful about keeping their affections as discreet as they possibly can around the others ( though, it seems more like an open secret instead of one that’s closely guarded considering the proximity the group shares ); but for now the only thing she wants is knowing he’s real in a way that solas wouldn’t be able to mock her with. she pulls away, but only to hum against his mouth. “you’re real, aren’t you?”

@spitecrow b/c SOMEONE wanted angsty kisses tonight sorry!

#spitecrow #ic. › answered.#verse. › main.#since they failed to give us this in game #i'm giving them the immediate post reg/ret pris/on smooch they deserved demmit #and then he can go check on her later to make sure she's *really* okay 😏#death mention cw #veilguard spoilers /

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devinetheory-2 · 1 year ago

Text

The writing below is from a dear friend

I was victimized by

her riteous heaven dipped

feared respected and revered pen.

Her wand is dark magic

Heavily guarded

tragic semi automatic

emphatic charismatic distraction

She keeps coming back like elastic

I can't help but feel that

the attraction

Between our souls

and our hearts is like magnets.

All you needed was one pen

And I was caught in your dragnet

An addict that won't break the habit

I cant help it

As passion had a chemical reaction

With tragedy

and gave birth to bat shit...

And I loved with everything I had

Back then....

Thank you for being you

Unapologetically savage

And tragicly empathic

Intergalactic rabbit

And I think I'm not afraid

As I am intoxicated by her magic...

And collapse in orgasmic

fantastic compassion

Animalistic

Tender madness

I'll eat you alive

In cannibalistic fashion...

But it always ends

in poetic madness.

As all things do

That are dangerous,

fast and attractive

As I fall into her dream

Wondering what it all means

I fade into the blackness...

- Devine Theory 👆 😁

rayven-interrupted 👇

Nov 10, 2023

He writes me, so indicatively

Perfectly capturing all my tragedies

His pen is the beauty of my insanity

🖤

................................................................................................

She's watched me

descend from calamity

I can't pretend

Im not treading water anymore

Lust, lack of trust

Thick like sand

I've lost the entire world

When it was just in my hands....

I will not survive my own gravity...

And it always comes back to me

I pay for the weight of my mistakes

With these tragedies...

The hitman...

And every bullet fired is actually

Iron blasphemy

Sent from the mouth of God

With unforgiving accuracy

Ceasar watching the ones I loved

With everything in this now

Empty cavity take their justified

Stab at me

Its my own fault

As I dozed off

I chose wrong

And now my soul owes cost

my spirit begins to atrophy...

Standing at the gates of heaven

Hoping they'll have me

And God isn't mad at me

Because somewhere along

this dark and lonely road

Where you have been traveling

With your back to me

I was kinda getting used

to being someone you loved

But changed your act

And threw a toaster

in the bath with me....

(Shocking....)

And within this insantiy

we've lost our humanity

As the demons birthed

of my darkness pull at me

Grabbing me dragging me

Armed with matches and

Cans of gasoline

She tells me that she loves me

Narcissistic vanity

I try to escape its inevitable grasp

But death just rolls her eyes

And laughs at me...

While I'm chased into never

forever by my past

this fight is so old

Her essence now is so cold

And there is no limit to its savagry...

See, I've never felt like I've belonged

To this world of fake magic dreams

Where the REAL ones will die

Leaving holes inside

And their flesh just rots

for the maggots to eat.

And yeah.... She lied,

miserable little harlot star

She'd burn me down

Leaving nothing but scarlet scars

Now ive lost myself again

in this starlit dark

until I would feel like

the wrong one died

Tearing my heart apart

Just saying that

Made trauma that I cant repress

Now I beg for death

Nothing but salty tears

And anguish left

The danger is in the anger

Because I can't release

I might bury my grief

Deep into some strangers chest.

Dont look into my soul

Thats where my flames are kept

Fueled by her games

until my brain resets

Stained by the charred remains

Of regrets and her angry threats

I write about it

And pretend

some of the pain just left...

Don't judge me

This world has made me insane

my Guardian Angels have to be drained

And insanely stressed

Thinking

I should maybe rest

But I keep up the fight

Like my line

cant be pressed

But today

i just remain depressed

A prisoner....

Chained to my regret.

Dont judge me...

I played my best

- Devine Theory

#writeblrina #addictsinrecovery #spilled words #bad love #twcpoetry #poetry #spilled poetry #13cupsofteareblog #quotes #writerscreed #writeonworld #devinetheory2 #Poetryedits #Poetryreblogs

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daisylore-au · 2 years ago

Text

K2 — Tell Karl A Lie — won!! is it the best idea?? is it even a good idea?? is it a BAD idea?? who knows!! not you guys :D you’ve got another choice at the bottom, and then one last one after this before your time with karl runs out :) feel free to also send any questions you might want george to ask karl!! he might ask a few…

—

Trust? Karl’s talking about trust? George wants to laugh. God, when is the last time they’d all trusted one another? Before the Red Days, when they’d been so divided and suspicious they’d almost gotten themselves killed? Before Dream’s death? Before the prison?

(Back in the first summer of the SMP, when Dream’s laugh had brought butterflies to George’s chest and made his own face match in a sunshine smile?)

George lets the silence stretch on too long for one minute, then two.

“George?”

“I am hiding something,” George admits, “Patches came back.”

Karl’s eyebrows fly up to his hair. “Like, Patches Patches?”

“No, the fake Patches. Obviously the only Patches we know, Karl.”

“Holy cow,” Karl breathes, ignoring George’s sarcastic response, “how long ago?”

George shrugs. “Like. I don’t know. Two weeks ago? Three? I’ve… been looking after her for a while. She just… um… appeared one day. I didn’t want to tell anyone who she is just yet. I don’t know, it doesn’t feel…”

“Right,” Karl offers, when his friend falters, “I get you. I mean, I’m not gonna tell anybody, dude. Cross my heart and all that.” His smile is pale on his face, and strangely drained. “Anything else? You’ve just been acting weird for a while now.”

“No,” George says, in a rush, “nothing else.”

This time, it’s Karl who lets the silence drag, those grey grey eyes of his boring into George’s, but George stays quiet, resolute.

“If you’re sure.” Karl looks tired, but says nothing. “Well, no fear. I’m not telling anyone about Patches. Your secret’s safe with—”

At the mention of her name, Patches appears, brushing against Karl’s ankles with a busy meow. Karl’s face softens instantly, and he scoops her up, earning himself a purr almost instantaneously.

“She looks so different,” he marvels, “I can’t believe she’s still alive.”

George scoffs, warmth blossoming in his chest at the sight. He wishes Dream could see this: then remembers with a pang that Dream is probably upstairs right now, listening to the sounds of merry friends families by himself.

“She was a baby when we got her, don’t forget,” he says, “it’s not like she was seventy or something. She’s just older now.”

Patches shoots him an indignant glare at the mention of her age. George pulls a face at her.

“It’s true.”

Glancing back up at Karl, George’s smile fades. His friend is distant, the way he used to get during and before the Red Days, before therapy and his marriage and their so-called happy ending. When Karl snaps his eyes towards him, they’re empty.

“What about you?” George pesters. “What’s been going on with you?”

“I had sex with your mom last night. I’m tired from it.”

“You’re an idiot.” He doesn’t let it drop. “Tell me the truth.”

“George…”

And admittedly, does he have any room to press when he hadn’t even told Karl his real secret? George pauses. In his defence, it’s not really his secret to tell in the first place. And he’s only asking Karl because he’s worried…

you have until 3pm est to choose c!george’s next course of action!! does he…

K1. PRESS KARL FOR HIS SECRET.

K2. CHANGE THE SUBJECT.

K3. [NOT UNLOCKED]

#> daisy lore: christmas event

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kayxleeee · 4 years ago

Text

Loki Laufeyson:Delusions (Loki x Reader)

Warning: NONE! Slight Mean + Sad Loki

A/N: Love this one! I always feel so bad for Loki in Thor The Dark World :(

Summary: After Loki returns to Asgard he is immediately sent to prison for his crimes on Earth. Unfortunate events occur when Asgard is under attack and you just want nothing more than to check in on your beloved.

Word Count: 2k+

*NOT MY GIF* Do not copy my work

The news of Loki return to Asgard was both worrisome and exciting. There were rumors being spread about that he was returning as a fugitive for the destruction of not only earth, but the crimes that he had committed against Asgard. You of course found yourself just happy to know that he was alive. He may not had been well, but sure he was very much alive.

Living. Breathing. Speaking.

Out of all Thor’s closest friends, you and Loki bounded the most, which caused you solely, to develop feelings for him. These feelings would lead to a sever fallout between you and your warrior companions. With Loki’s criminal accusations, hate and critism came from many, especially from Sif and Fandral. For you to still think highly of him,--well you were considered a traitor in their eyes.

When he returned you were forbidden to pay him any visits. Odin also ordered that the only visitors Loki received were of kin and even those visits were kept very minimal. Now with the unbearable news of Frigga’s death you worried about his sanity even more than before.

The queen has been deceased for a few days now, Thor was easily consoled by Jane’s presents and the support of the Asgardian people who were also mourning their queen. However no one was concerned for the fallen prince, except for you. You knew that his crimes were severe, but nothing was more torturous than knowing of your mothers death and there is nothing for you to do because you are locked away without even the slightest hope of saying goodbye.

For days you try to receive information on the location of where Loki was being held. You are a warrior of Asgard, you should have known these things, but because of your so-called bias-ness for the Prince of Mischief you weren’t allowed. Your inquiries about Loki’s whereabouts in the palace were extremely noticeable and you received a lot of animosity for it, especially from Lady Sif. She called you stupid and selfish for wanting to see him. You were also accused of not having any dignity or self respect. No one would tell you directly where Loki was being held, but with enough sneaking around the palace, you finally over heard a few guards speaking of his whereabouts.

With the common criminals.

You have been watching two sets of guards for more than an hour. You wanted to slip past them undetected, but you needed to wait for the perfect moment. You weren't one of the most skilled warriors in fighting but you were known for your intelligence and abilities to be clever in any situation. The plan was for you to create a diversion to get the guards away from the staircase leading down to the dungeons. You knew that since the palace had been attacked from the inside out the guards would be on high alert. You cast a large stone, breaking a window to which the guards attention is drawn to the noise. They run into the direction of the shattering glass. As you sneak past them, the memories of Stif warning you fills your mind as you flip into the entrance running down the concrete staircase as quickly as possible.

“It’ll be the last thing you do” She threatened.

“He is a prisoner, he knows his crime.” She scoffed

“If you go to him, we will know where your loyalties lie.”

“Loki cares nothing about you, he is a man who cares simply for himself.”

You reach the bottom of the large steps, hoping you were turning down the correct corridor as you ran quickly. You notice on your way that the majority of the cells are completely empty. This worried you, but did not stop you from searching for him. You luckily reach his location without any mishaps.

“Loki!” You announce breathlessly watching as he paced around the small room with his back turned away from you.

His cell was tidy, clean as if he had not touched a single thing. He had all of his things that brought him comfort; fancy furniture, books, papers, and pens. You knew that Loki loved to read because the two of you spent the majority’s of your time together in the library. You felt at ease knowing that he at least had that. This was of course curtsy of the Queen; she asked for these items. Although he was being punished, the only thing she wanted for her dear son was that he was comfortable in his confinement no matter what he had done.

“What is it ?!” He snapped turning around to face you. He took heed in your presence and then pressed his lips into a thin line. “Ah, Lady (Y/n).” He greets you calmly, then an amused grin appears on his face. “Here to tell me the mighty King has passed on too?”

His comment took you by surprise, you assumed he would be just as grateful to see you, as you were to see him.

“Don’t be so morbid Loki!” You cut him off with offense frowning your face in confusion. “With the news of your mother passing, I would think you’d have far-more compassion for your family, for Asgard.”

“My family.” He repeats, mocking your charismatic tone placing his hand over his chest. “My Family is not here on Asgard. My family are no more than those disgusting vile creatures you fight and kill.”

“Loki I know you’re hurting, I know you have all this anger built up, but you have to know that you do have family and loved ones here on Asgard.” You say subtlety hinting at yourself. “I did not come here to be mocked.” You say in a calming voice as he walks over to you.

You place a hand on the enchanted glass as you look up to his figure continuing to speak. “I am not one for your dramatics, I just wanted to see how you were holding up.”

“Holding up?” He lets out a malice laugh. “Ha! Holding up?! I am locked in a cage like an animal!”

You slam your fist against the glass in annoyance realizing your loving reunion was falling flat. You did not come here to argue with this man, you didn’t even plan far enough to think of exactly what you wanted to say, but it was never envisioned like this.

“And who’s fault is that Loki?! Who’s fault!?” You snap matching his dramatic tone.

“My own! For trusting idiots!” He yells back and you can’t help but think what idiots he were referring to. He continues, “Why are you even down here, Odin forbade anyone from seeing me, you can’t be THAT stupid. Or perhaps you want to cast more stones?”

“Cast stones?— I came here as a friend Loki. All this worrying I did for you, all the tears and regrets. I risked my own life and freedom by coming down here” You scoff rolling your eyes at his demeanor. “Just to be spat on by you?”

“Better I to you, then you to me.” He laughs.

“That is your problem, you always think people want to hurt you just as bad as you want to hurt them! Look at you and your brother, he mourned you, we all did, and you go and do this? Destroy and take over the only place he loves. What did you gain?!”

“Oh bullshit! That place was nothing, but a pathetic little wasteland! They needed ORDER.”

“They needed no such thing Loki, YOU needed a sense of belonging.” You say with emphasis.

“My god you’re just as delusional as my brother .” He laughs.

“Delusional?!” You yell.

“Yes.” He says calmly, pleased at how angry he was making you. He walks away and sits on his couch crossing his legs and resting his arms on top of them. “D-e-l-u-s-i-o-n-a-l, delusional.”

As he walked away you noticed a single error in his walk as if it all was an illusion. Something that only someone who knew Loki would catch if they payed close enough attention.

“Enough, no more illusions Loki. Show me your true state, I know you are not this heartless. The only person who stands here delusional is you!”

With that, what you thought was the real Loki fades away in shimmers. A much sadder scene formed before you. The cell becomes a mess, with the once neat furniture, either broken or distorted across the room. The scuff marks on the walls concluded that he had thrown the furniture with immense force. His beloved books were ripped and torn to shreds, and his once neat clothes tattered and disheveled. Your eyes meet his saddened pale figure sitting on the floor near something he recently broken. Fresh blood oozes down his foot as the glass that was lodge in him is discarded next to him on the floor.

“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED TO SEE!? A BROKEN MAN YOU SEE !?” His unruly hair falls into his face as he screams at the top of his lungs, veins bulging from his neck.

You immediately go to the side panel that unlocks the cell, running to his aid. You kneel beside him where there is not much debris, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. He barriers himself deep into your neck letting out a silent sob. You hold him close as if you never wanted to let him go.

“I am here Loki.” You whisper to him placing a kiss to the top of his head.

You have never in your seen the Prince so weak, so fragile, so upset, so venerable. This all must have taken a huge toll on him, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

“ I did not want this for myself, I did not want this, not for her.” He says lowly as his voice breaks.

“I know.” You rub his back softly. “But you have to know that she loved you unconditionally with all her being, Loki.”

“I-, I don’t believe that.” He sighs with a hint of hesitation in his voice. “No one could ever.”

“That should not be hard to believe because I do, I love you too, I love you unconditionally.”

“You love me?” Asked confused he pulls away from your embrace looking at you with puffy red eyes.

“Yes.” You admit.

“You surely love as a friend correct?” He questions with squinted eyes.

“More.” You place a hand on his cheek giving him a small reassuring smile. “I’ve always loved you Loki, more than a companion, way before any of this.”

He places his hand over yours, giving you a weak smile, then leans in to kiss you. You were surprised , but quickly adapted the new feeling. The kiss was sweet and slow, so slow it felt as if time had stopped. He pulls away resting his forehead against yours.

“This probably is the best news I’ve received all week.” He says with a light chuckle. "I'm so sorry."

You smile pecking his lips once more before speaking again.

“I hope you know that for me to love you unconditionally, that I know who you are deep down. I know you aren’t all bad. I know that you had your reasons for going to earth and ruining New York, just as you had reasons for all the mayhem you have created. What was it ?” You say attempting to have him open up more.

“My reasoning ?” He asked in an unsure voice. “ I do not know.” He concluded turning way to look forward as if he was thinking.

“I find that very hard to believe Loki.” You say resting your head on his shoulder, taking his hand. “But I’m here whenever you’re ready to open up.”

It was true, you never thought Loki was all bad, you knew that there had to be reasons behind his mischief and misunderstanding. A few minutes passed of the two of you just being in one another’s presents. You imagined in other circumstances, this is how Thor felt when he Jane, as if nothing else matter other than the fact that they had each other.

“It…. His name was Thanos, after I fell from the birfrost—” He finally spoke, but it was short lived.

“(Y/n)!” You hear Thor shout from the other end of the cell interrupting. He states at the two of you intensely.

“Thor it is not what is seems.” You say imagining Lady Sif would soon be on her was as well.

“You are not in trouble (Y/n), but I need to speak to my brother, alone.”

You turn your attention back to Loki and he nods patting your hand. The two of you get up and Loki weakly walks you over to the entrance of the cell that you previously came through.

“We can talk later, you know I’ll be here.” He looks at you with a knowing grin placing another kiss on your lips, before Turing to his brother.

You nod turning away to leave the two alone to talk. You had hopes that one day you and Loki could somehow be together, and finish that conversation, but today was clearly not that day.

#loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x you #loki x black!reader #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson #thor and loki #thor x reader #thor the dark world #tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston x reader #loki x y/n #loki headcanon #loki of asgard #tom hiddelston imagine #mcu loki #marvel #black reader x avenger #mcu bwww

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amerrierworld · 4 years ago

Text

Babysitter (pt 11)

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Summary: Loki and Hela come to break you out.

Characters: Hela x fem!reader, Avengers

Word Count: 2,780

Warnings: some light smut to start~ and then battle time! whoop whoop

Her cold lips pressed against the back of your neck, a firm presence in the swirling dark. You couldn’t see her, but you could feel her. Could feel her wandering hands snaking over your bare skin, making you squirm.

You could see your breath form in the cool air around you, and you were pulled back against her front, feeling her hook her legs over yours, her dark hair falling into your sight as she enveloped you. Hints of green pulsed in your peripheral vision.

“Hela,” you breathed, clinging onto one of her hands as the other traveled lower and lower. You stared up into the darkness, falling back even further into her hold, her body and soft cushions catching you. Her voice rumbled in your ear, but you couldn’t understand what she was saying.

Your eyes fluttered shut as familiar fingers searched and caressed your cunt, pushing between your folds and collecting your wetness on her fingertips. Your hips bucked weakly, as if you were caught in molasses, and you moaned softly.

One of your hands tried to reach back, felt the brush of her hair against your palm, but couldn’t find her head or her shoulders to hold onto. Your legs were still trapped, the fingers were still moving inside you, but your hands were grasping at nothingness and-

You sat up in your bed, shaking, eyes looking around and wondering if Hela could be in your room with you. But there was nothing, and no one out of the ordinary.

Sweat had gathered in every crevice of your body and you clambered out of bed to take a quick shower, trying to wash the feeling of Hela off your body, without succeeding. You didn't sleep the rest of the night.

The next day you were sitting by yourself, reading a book after lunch in a small reading room away from the main offices and training rooms where you knew the rest of the team would be.

Something crept up the back of your neck and a chill ran through your body. You tried to ignore it, but it persisted. And when you looked up from your book, Loki was standing by the doorway, looking quite unimpressed. You shrieked, your stomach dropping at the sight of you.

He raised his hand to shush you and eyed the doorway, hoping no one would come through there. You stared at him, and in a split decision, chucked your book at him.

It went straight through his form, only causing a faint green glimmer as it landed on the floor. You gaped at him and he raised an eyebrow, silently asking if you were done.

“Do you know how hard it was to find you?” Loki said after you had calmed down somewhat.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, “weren’t you..”

“Dead? No, not quite. Almost.”

You sank back in your seat, your hand over your heart as you sighed, “what is it with you lot and always coming back from the dead?”

“It’s an occupational hazard with what we do,” he shrugged.

A pair of footsteps walked by the room, and Loki slunk back into the shadows, fading away for a moment. You didn't move until you were sure whoever it was had gone.

“Look, I don’t have much time,” Loki said once you were alone again, “but we’re here to break you out.”

“Who’s we?”

Loki rolled his eyes, “who do you think? Your murderous girlfriend who unfortunately happens to be my sister as well.”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your throat, “Hela? So she is here?”

“Of course she is.”

You sat quietly for a moment; so your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Hela had come back for you, and she was here.. somewhere.

“I- I can’t believe..”

“Well you better, now get your things and follow me. We can get out of here without fighting.”

“Wait- what? No, wait, wait,” you got up hurriedly as Loki began walking to the doorway. You couldn’t stop him- it was only a projection of him, but you weren’t ready to just walk out.

“Why would I just leave?” you asked, making Loki stop in his tracks. He looked you over and slowly approached you, his eyes flashing.

“Because you’re being held here against your will and she’s come to bail you out? Mind you- it was her idea to come barging in and killing anyone in sight, so this is a much better upgrade from that plan.”

“No- no I know. But.. when we get out, what then? What am I supposed to do? Loki... the world’s fallen apart.”

The Asgardian was quiet.

“Yeah, sure,” you continued, pacing from where you were standing, “I don’t like being kept here but- there’s not much else out there right now. Everything here at least feels a little... normal.”

“You can’t be serious. What about Hela then, huh? You think she’ll stay here with a team of heroes who tried to kill her? Just for you? Hela hates being imprisoned, Y/N. This would be a death sentence for all of us.”

“What about you then?” you retorted, “after you get me out, and Hela and I go about our merry way, what will you do? Tour the universe until some other evil plan comes up?

“This,” you gestured around the room, “is all I have right now.”

“No, no,” Loki mocked your gesture a bit more aggressively, “what you have is a prison, and only one person in the world who will stop at nothing to break you out of it.

“I’m not the most romantic, fine,” he admitted, “but I know that the two of you should never be apart, ever again. You should have seen her when I found her, Y/N- she was broken.”

A wave of tears threatened to spill at his words and you fell back in you chair once again. You buried your face in your hands and for a few minutes nothing else happened. Loki looked at you and felt his heart -or what was left of it- break to see you so defeated.

“I love her, Loki,” you whimpered, “I tried to deny it when Tony said so.. but he’s right. I love her, but I’m scared. This world isn’t meant for her. It would drive her mad.”

“Not with you around.”

You wiped the salty tears off your cheeks and looked up at Loki.

“Let’s get you out of here, and we can figure it out from there, okay? Perhaps we can come to an agreement with the rest of your team.”

You eventually nodded and stood up, ready to pack the few things you had when a loud crash and alarms sounded. There was a hurry of steps outside the room and when you looked, the whole team of remaining Avengers were preparing themselves, running down the hallways to the source of the noise.

“You filthy humans!” a cry came from the direction they were running towards. Your heart shattered; Hela.

Beside you, Loki’s apparition groaned in exasperation.

“I told her to wait, for crying out loud. Why would she be so reckless?”

“She takes after her family, obviously,” you said. “Can’t you get her out of here?”

“You’re a fool to think I can control her now.”

“Then get over here and help her!”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Loki huffed, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

His image shimmered away, and you hurried down the hallway, hoping to stall before anyone was killed.

One of the ground level metal walls had been torn open like it was nothing but paper. Large metal spears and knives were wedged in the edges and the opposite walls. The sun was glinting off of Hela’s horns and blinded you for a moment before you could really look at her.

She looked.. regal. Well, she mostly looked psychotic, with bared teeth and clenched hands, but it was her and she was real and oh boy was she angry.

Hela had Steve by the throat, holding him up so his feet barely brushed the ground. Tony and Nat had their weapons aimed but didn’t shoot. They were either waiting for her to drop Steve or didn't want to kill her. You hoped it was the latter.

“Wait!” you screamed, skidding to a halt at the scene. Dust swirled in the air from the debris. There were no bodies yet, and you prayed you could keep it that way.

The moment Hela caught sight of you, her face changed. Her eyebrows unfurled and her mouth dropped open a little bit- she looked at you with disbelief, as if she couldn’t comprehend you standing there, alive and well.

Steve took the opportunity as she was distracted and lifted his leg to kick her square in the stomach. She doubled over, dropping him, and he raised his arm to land a punch, but instead, Hela grabbed his offensive arm and whipped him away from her- effectively throwing him against the rest of the team, knocking them all down temporarily.

Before you could react and rush over to see if the group of Avengers were okay, Hela was by you in a flash.

Her hands trembled as they grasped yours, and she looked you up and down, checking for wounds, checking if you were there. Then she cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears you were crying.

“Hela-,” you croaked, because the touch of her was too much, too overwhelming, too good. She smiled, though barely, and kissed you hard on the mouth.

“Stand down, sister,” Thor’s voice boomed, and she turned to see the team back on their feet, aiming everything they had at her. She snarled, pulling you behind her, shielding you from them, as if they would ever hurt you.

“You’ve taken everything from me, brother,” she spat. “You won’t take this last ounce of happiness from me.”

Something flickered in Thor’s eyes and he had to retighten his grip on his hammer, which you realized wasn’t Mjolnir, but a makeshift copy that looked somewhat close to it.

“Y/N,” Tony said, gesturing you over to their side, “come here. Quick. We don’t want you in the way.”

Hela’s focus sharpened in on him, hidden in his armour. There was a surge of jealousy through her whole being, at the memory of him by your side, threatening to hurt you, sparring with you, taking you from her.

She pushed you back, hurled herself at Tony with lightning speed before anyone could shoot, breaking entirely through the next wall, and landing with a thud in the next room.

“No!” you screamed, shielding your face from the spray of debris as the wall broke down.

Hela tried to punch, but Tony’s right iron hand held it in place, arms shaking from the force. They stayed there, suspended in time for a moment. Hela lowered her face to Tony’s helmet as she growled and snapped, but he could see the tears streaming down her face, the wild fear and anger in her eyes.

“You won’t steal her from me,” she cried.

Then JARVIS finished downloading Hela’s body scan from the first day at your home way back, analyzing her form, and realizing her weaknesses. Her left side was much weaker than her right.

And so, he kicked, jabbed, and twisted her left leg and arm until she howled in pain and dropped to the side, giving Tony the chance to get up and put some distance between them again.

You felt helpless, not knowing how to stop it, not knowing what to do, not wanting to hurt anyone- you had no weapons on you. Hela staggered to her feet, the helmet having disappeared long ago, and she raised her hand to summon a new menacing sword, when someone hooked an arm around her neck and pressed a rusty dagger against her neck.

“Drop it, sister,” Loki hissed, the blade pressing finely against her skin. She hissed, but slowly let it slip from her hands as she realized defeat. You were panting, every inch of you throbbing with adrenaline and dread.

“Stand down, everyone,” Loki continued, and then with a pointed look at Thor, “please, brother.”

Thor was the first to lower his hammer, though his face was still angry and unforgiving. Then Tony, and everyone else followed suit.

Loki kicked the back of Hela’s knee to make her drop down, to which she cried out in anger.

“Sorry,” he added, the blade still pressed against her neck, “but you’ve really got to stop going on killing sprees.”

“You were taking too long,” she snapped, “I needed to take matters into my own hands. How was I supposed to know what was happening?”

“Alright, okay, anyone wanna explain what the hell is going on? Y/N? Thor? You wanna explain what your dysfunctional family is doing here?” Nat asked, exasperated.

The God of Thunder looked at you, your eyes begging and desperate. “They’re here for you, aren’t they?”

You nodded weakly, trembling.

“Well, best let her take her then,” Tony sighed. All of you turned your heads at him in disbelief. His iron armour was short-circuiting from the blows Hela had landed and he quickly stepped out of it. You were reminded once again of how malnourished he looked- and how dark the bags under his eyes were. But his tone remained chipper.

“You’ve seen what she can do,” he gestured at Hela, “and she isn’t gonna stop until she gets Y/N. And I don’t think Y/N wants to stay here either.”

He looked at you knowingly, and you felt like you could cry all over again.

Hela struggled against Loki’s grip for a moment, heartbroken as she saw your face scrunch up and your hands grasp your elbows in an attempt to shield yourself.

“Is that true?” Nat asked, staring at you with a gun still in hand.

You slowly nodded, making eye contact with Hela and not looking away. You heard Steve sigh and groan a bit from pain as he came up to your side.

“Y/N, she’s a vicious attacking machine, we can’t just let you two run off.”

“Why not?” you asked, your voice thick. “We won’t hurt anyone.”

“Look, we still don’t even know if she knows about Thanos, right?” Clint said, but Tony shook his head, sitting down on the armrest of a cushioned chair that was practically sliced in half from Hela throwing weapons.

“I doubt that,” he said, “if she had control over Thanos or any connection with him, I don’t think she would have come alone, let alone with him,” with a nod towards Loki.

He rolled his eyes, “you’re welcome for saving you, by the way.”

“Can you- could you all, please, just, can we please just talk about this?” you hiccuped through your words, sobs slowly growing in volume. “Loki- the- the knife, please- please let her go.”

Loki looked at you apologetically, “not if she lashes out again.”

“Hela,” you pleaded, “Hela, please. Don’t hurt anyone else? Everyone- everyone has already been hurt so much.”

Hela looked at you, now seeing the tears sliding down your dirtied cheeks, and her shoulders slumped, before nodding. Her hands that were gripping Loki’s arm around her neck let go, and dropped to her sides.

Loki removed the dagger and stepped away. Tension filled the room, expecting her to attack again.

“Y/N,” Thor said, and he tossed you a new pair of handcuffs. “Go on.”

You stared at him, “excuse me? You want me to chain her up- again? After everything-”

“This is more to keep all of us safe. She’d kill us if we came too close,” Thor said, pointedly raising an eyebrow at you. “It won’t be for long. Not until we figure out what to do next.”

You stumbled over rand dropped on your knees in front of Hela, gently holding her hands for a moment. She stared at you, deep green eyes watering.

“Just for now,” you promised. “Just like before, okay?”

You waited for long, agonizing moments until she nodded, and only then did you snap the cuffs in place. Almost immediately, Tony was on Loki and had his wrists in chains as well.

“Wh- excuse me?” he scoffed, staring at the cuffs, “how dare you?”

“Precautions, my friend,” he shrugged. “Come on, all of you, this mess is doing nothing for my respiratory system.”

He pushed Loki ahead of him and you followed with Hela’s hands clasping yours, rubbing your arms together, her trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You were thrilled to see her again, but wondered where the hell you were supposed to go from here.

A/N; I guess I kinda made Loki the unspoken hero didn’t I? :D

so the main reason why I haven’t been updating this series as much is because we’re at a point where multiple ideas branch off into totally different directions, and I keep changing my mind about where I want this to go, effectively stumping me when writing. but after much editing and changing of plot, this is what I’ve got, and I hope you like it :)

taglist: @midnight-lestrange @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill @gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901 @marvels-writings @jadewestwriter @thisisanexistentialcrisis @sapphiclyartistically

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kayecorral · 4 years ago

Text

Freight Car

Chapter One of the Brown Book Series

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of violence, PTSD (!), swearing

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Summary: Nine years ago, The Winter Soldier murdered your friend in front of you. Nine years later, Bucky Barnes shows up at your door with the hope of making amends.

⭑⭑⭑

⭑⭑

⭑

You wake up on the floor again.

In the crossfade between dreaming to waking, the hardwood is concrete against your cheek. The sweat in your hair is the slick of blood. You fade in and out, and awareness comes back slowly. A siren descends, moving closer and closer, then recedes into the quiet. You don’t know if you imagined it.

You do know that your alarm isn’t blaring. Your ringtone isn’t sounding. The birds chattering and chirping at your window are real. The steady knocking of your heart against your ribs is real. Maybe that’s enough.

You open your eyes. A sliver of light from the parted curtains cuts across the floor. Above it, dust dances in the still air. All is calm. If you had woken up in your bed, this would be a good morning.

But you didn’t wake up in your bed. So, you peel yourself off the floor and half-walk, half-limp to the bathroom. As you cross the threshold and flick on the light, a face flashes before you. Before your mind can work to discern its features, you slam the door shut and flip the switch. You cry in the dark.

⭑⭑⭑

You call into work again.

You’re tempted to stay where you are—curled in on yourself under the covers—but Dr. Kaplan’s gentle voice prods from inside your skull. “Trauma changes over time,” it says. “You have to face it as it comes. You’ll feel worse if you put off dealing with it.”

She picks up on the second ring. Judging by the sound of clinking silverware, she’s on her lunch break. You promise to keep this impromptu session short.

“I haven’t had a nightmare like that in a long time. That’s why it hit me so hard, I think.” You begin. Your eyes fill with tears. You don’t know why. The nightmare is so distant now — just bits of feeling. Your brain is scrubbing away the memory like a mounted defense.

You’re quiet for what feels like minutes, and Dr. Kaplan just waits. She doesn’t pose a question or make a suggestion: in other words, she doesn’t offer an out. She never does. At first, her silence and seemingly unending patience unnerved you. You would later understand the value of having the space to organize your thoughts before speaking them.

“I thought I was doing better,” you eventually say. “But now, it’s like I’m back where I started.”

“You are not back where you started,” she says. “We haven’t talked about your night terrors in months when we used to talk about them every session. That’s incredible progress. You should be proud of how far you’ve come.”

You hold the phone away so she can’t hear the tears in your voice. “But what does it mean? ”

“Well,” she pauses. “Have you been thinking about Jean lately?”

“Kind of,” you start to say, then remember Dr. Kaplan’s rule about specifics. “I’ve probably thought about her… twice in the past week. Marie, she, uh, she sent me a Facebook request.”

“Did you accept it?” She asks, with just a hint of amusement.

“I haven’t. I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?” Dr. Kaplan asks. She knows the answer, of course. You haven’t spoken to Marie since the funeral nearly a decade ago. You know she resents you. You saw it in the tightness of her smiles and the way her eyes turned to stone as you stood before Jean’s casket. You’re alive and her sister isn’t. You understand that. What you don’t understand is why she would reach out to you after so many years.

“I’m afraid of what she’ll say,” you admit.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Dr. Kaplan says. You shift on the couch. “She knows that. Maybe she’s been thinking about Jean, too.”

“Yeah,” you respond simply. Your head is light from dehydration, and you should probably take a nap at some point.

“I’d recommend you take easy today…”

“But?”

“But next week, I’d like to hear about your Facebook convo.”

You smile. The tears have dried on your face.

⭑⭑⭑

Snippets of dialogue filter through your thoughts. A woman is talking about a missing child, and a detective is asking the “who, what, where”s. It’s an episode you’ve already seen, but it makes for good background noise: the dramatic stings, the fast-talking, the screech of tires as the driver peels off. You don’t know why you gravitate towards crime shows. It might be a bit morbid, but until now, you’ve never thought to mention it to Dr. Kaplan.

You’re almost done with the cake batter. It’s looking a little watery, though. You really should have followed the recipe instead of improvising.

You reach for the flour bag on the counter, and just as you raise it to the mixing bowl, someone knocks at your door. You jolt and the bag slips from your hands. You narrowly dodge as it plummets to the ground. It lands with a thump and now, your feet and pants and floor are covered in a film of white powder.

“Fuck,” you breathe.

There’s another knock, a bit louder this time.

“Give me — give me just a minute!” You call out, voice frayed.

You step over your mess and towards the door. You notice how slick your hand is on the doorknob, so you wipe your hands on your pants and try again. You forget your ritual of checking and re-checking the peephole. You unlock the door, already anxious at the idea of keeping anyone waiting.

When you finally swing the door open, a tall, dark-haired white guy is staring at the carpeted hallway floor. He’s not looking at you, but you feel exposed in your flimsy tank top and flour-splattered pajama pants.

Meanwhile, his look is carefully nondescript: a leather jacket, a dark shirt, and jeans. His hands are stuffed into his pockets and his shoulders are slightly hunched. He looks like someone who doesn’t want to be seen, but here he is, standing at your door.

Maybe he’s just a neighbor on a reluctant mission to convince you to turn your volume down. Maybe he’s a dealer at the wrong address. Maybe he —

Your stomach drops. The shadows had been obscuring his face, but now that he’s tilting his chin up to look at you… the broadness of his forehead, the color of his hair, his height, all these things pull together. They pull tighter and tighter around your heart, and you realize that you’ve seen this man before. You’ve seen him a thousand times.

Your hand flies up to your neck. Fear hits like a punch to your gut. He looks normal — so normal that you could convince yourself that it’s not him. It’s not him.

But now, his eyes — a startling shade of blue— meet yours. Cold washes over you as every sensation in your body amplifies. You feel small and weak. Your vision starts trembling at the edges. You can’t move — not even to release your breath.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says. His voice sounds so different from the one in your memories. It’s not as coarse and low, it’s gentler and higher-pitched. “I just wanna talk.”

“Talk.” The word escapes you, but you hadn’t meant to speak. Hearing your own voice makes this real.

He clears his throat. “My name is James Barnes, and I’m no longer The Winter Soldier.”

The Winter Soldier. You suppose it doesn’t matter now what that means. If these are your last moments, you’re not going to spend them deciphering code. Instead, you think of your life and all the things you’ve done and all that you haven’t done. In the span of moments, you try to make peace with your death.

“If you’re going to kill me...” you can’t keep your voice from shaking, “do it.”

His eyes widen. “I’m not here to kill you. I’m — ”

“Hydra wants to know what I know. Is that it?” Your mind reels with the new theory.

His eyebrows tick up. “Hydra doesn’t exist anymore,” he says with a measured tone. “Not really.”

You don’t know how to respond to that divulgence. You don’t even know if you can trust it.

“I’m here because you,” he adds your name — your real name, “are part of my efforts to make amends.”

Your thoughts catch on how he knows your name. It’s a small thing, really. He knows where you live, after all.

“I know you’re confused, and I know you have questions.” He reaches up to scratch his neck. “And if you’re not, ah...” he glances from your face to your body, as if he were just now noticing your state of dress, “comfortable talking here, we can talk somewhere public. I guess what I’m asking is: can I buy you lunch or, uh, dinner? ”

You consider, seriously, that this man may be clinically insane. You have no other rational explanation for his showing up at your door on a Thursday afternoon, let alone his proposition. But you allow yourself to imagine it: you and him, sitting across a table with Jean’s ghost between and behind you. Your stomach turns at the thought.

“You murdered my friend,” you say slowly, “right in front of me.”

He nods. A pained look crosses his face, and that expression spurs your anger. It hadn’t occurred to you earlier that you should call the police. This man is a murderer, and he’s walking free.

“You shouldn’t even be here — you should be in a prison somewhere!” You choke out as your throat tightens with impending tears.

“I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t want to kill her!” He says forcefully. “I didn’t want to kill anyone. I — ”

“But you did kill her!” You can’t hold them back anymore, and now, you’re crying in front of the man who killed Jean. Humiliation heats your cheeks.

“You did kill her,” you repeat quietly. You turn your watery gaze away.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He says.

In your peripheral, you watch him step closer. When you flinch, he bobs back.

You should step back, shut the door, and call the police. Not that a slab of wood could stop him if he wanted to get to you. You’ve seen his silver arm. You’ve felt the grip of its fingers at the base of your neck. But, maybe you could manage a dial ‘9-1-1’ before —

“Look, I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he interrupts your line of thought and, against your will, you look at him again, “I know I don’t deserve it, but I do want to offer you answers. Maybe it can…” He waves his hand as he searches for what he thinks are the right words. “Maybe it can give you some closure. And then, you’ll never see me again.”

You consider the furrow of his eyebrows. Over the years, you’ve tried reconstructing his face from its missing half. Now that you have the full picture, it makes perfect sense: the upper edges of the mask aligned with the cut of his cheekbones, the thin bridge really did conform to his nose, and the wideness of his jaw was merely accentuated. But his features are such a striking contrast to the severity of that mask and that metal arm. He looks so much leaner than you remember. He looks like a man, not a machine.

“Stay here,” you say. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He nods and his brow softens. You shut the door and press your forehead against it.

After a few beats, you rest your hand on the base of your neck and suck in a few deep breaths. It’s a calming technique Dr. Kaplan taught you. But without meaning to, you flex your fingers. Just as your heart was beginning to slow, you’re pulled into the memory of him raising you by the throat. You gasp for air.

That man is behind this door. That man is behind this door.

You race around the couch to snatch your phone off the coffee table. You unlock it with shaking hands and now, your thumb hovers over the number pad.

“Fuck,” you whisper as you press ‘9’.

It’s true. You do want answers. You want to know why he killed her. You want to know about Hydra and his role in it. You want to know why he left you alive.

So you’ll get your answers, then call the cops.

You pull on some real pants and cover up with a sweatshirt. But at the door, you hesitate to step out again. If you’ve imagined that whole encounter, if it was some vivid manifestation of your survivor’s guilt, then you wouldn’t have to go.

You press your ear against the door, and, as if your doubts had broadcasted through the wood, he coughs. You sigh and grab the doorknob. Your hand isn’t sweaty this time.

At the sound of the hinges creaking, his gaze snaps to you. You meet his eyes without meaning to. There’s no recognizable emotion in them. The creases in his forehead and the furrow in his brow are gone. Now, his face gives nothing away.

“There’s a place about two blocks from here,” you say simply.

He nods and looks to you as if for direction. If he were anyone else, you would start heading for the elevator without further ado, but the thought of Jean’s killer trailing behind you makes your stomach flip.

“I’d prefer you walk ahead,” you utter. His eyebrows raise slightly, but he gives no other visible reaction.

“Alright,” he says.

He moves down the hallway, and you follow. Your eyes stay trained on his back. Aside from your occasional direction, it’s a silent walk.

⭑⭑⭑

Sully’s is a dive, but it’s always busy, and this evening is no exception. The people who frequent this place are the kind of people who get loud after a few drinks and don’t give two shits about you unless you’re bleeding out on the floor. That’s perfect. God forbid anyone overhears your questions about murder and secret organizations.

“You want anything?” He asks after you choose a corner booth and tuck in. His casual tone bothers you, but he keeps his distance, at the very least.

“No,” you deadpan.

He nods and starts for the bar. A few people graze him as he passes, and it’s so crowded that you’ve already lost sight of him.

You place your phone face-up on the sticky, varnished wood table. Absentmindedly, you nudge the pedal base with your foot. You try to hone in on any particular voice, but all you hear is a buzz of conversation. It’s a comfort. It means that you’re not alone and he can’t hurt you here.

“I know you didn’t ask for anything, but…” Fuck. Your knee knocks on the bottom of the table. His voice is so sudden at your side.

He places a water glass in front of you, and you stop yourself before you can say “thanks”. He drops into the chair in front of you, a beer bottle tucked between his gloved palms. Gloves. He’s wearing gloves. You hadn’t noticed until now.

There’s an awkward pause. He watches you intently. Your stomach is churning, but you steadily meet his gaze. You have so many questions. Some of the things he’s said don’t make sense. One thing, in particular, though, is nagging at you.

“Back there, you said you didn’t have a choice,” you say dubiously, “what did you mean?”

He takes a drag of beer and sets the bottle down carefully before he speaks. “They brainwashed me.” He replies bluntly. “Hydra, I mean.”

Brainwashing? It’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility. Aliens exist, as do superheroes and Norse gods and Mad Titans. What was once science-fiction is now very real and devastating.

He gives you a few beats to process, then continues. “For seventy years, I operated as The Winter Soldier.”

“Wait. Seventy years?”

“I just turned 106 in March,” he says with a sardonic smile.

“How is that possible?”

“I was on ice.” He sighs. “They only took me out when they needed me.”

“And Hydra… what happened to them?”

His jaw tightens. It’s the most reaction you’ve gotten so far. “They used to have this saying: cut off one head, two more take its place… Maybe they’ll come back, but right now, they’re gone.”

“So they aren’t after me,” you say softly, more to yourself than him.

“If Hydra wanted you out of the way, they wouldn’t’ve sent me.” He grimaces, even as his voice mocks a shrug.

You get it now: you’re not a threat, and you never were.

“But I was a loose end, wasn’t I? Why didn’t you kill me?”

He shakes his head and says, “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t elaborate further. Instead, he finishes off his bottle and shifts his gaze to the table.

After a minute or two, you consider moving on, but something about his expression, both vacant and pensive, implores you to wait. In the interim, you glance from the people knocking shoulders at the bar to the couple in front of you.

“It was that look on your face,” he says, and you find his gaze is fixed on you again. “It was rage. And grief. And that-that grief almost overtook everything else, but I saw it.” He leans towards you, his eyebrows knitting close. “That part of you that… that part of you that wanted me to kill you, too.”

He glances at his hand on the table and releases a shaky breath. “I understood that,” he says. “I know what it’s like.”

Like a clenched fist releasing, the tightness in your chest eases. You understand something else, now, too. This is meant to be an exchange. He wants answers as much as you do, no matter how much pain they carry.

“Do you wanna know what I saw? On your face?” You ask after a few beats. He hesitantly nods. “Nothing. There was nothing,” you say. “You didn’t even look human. It was like you were an animal. And you were looking at me like I was prey.”

You look away. The intensity of his eyes threatens to pull you into that memory. “I’ve never been more terrified in my entire life.”

“I’m so sorry,” you hear him say.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” you say quietly, chancing a glance up.

His face twists into something like shame. If he were a different person, you might try to comfort him. But he’s not a different person. He’s a stranger wearing the face that’s haunted you for nine years.

“So why now?”

“Well, I was…” He mimics a snap with his right hand. “And after that, I… started going to therapy.”

He pulls a small, brown book from his jacket pocket. “My, uh, shrink told me to make a list of people I’ve wronged,” he says as he flips it open to a page in the middle and places it in front of you. “You’re one of the last.”

You find your name third-to-bottom. The ones above are crossed through. He glances from your face to your fingers as they trace his careful scrawl.

“You don’t let people look at this, do you?” You ask.

He half-smiles and shakes his head.

“So why are you letting me?”

“I, uh,” he flexes his hand. “I don’t know. I just… thought I owed it to you.”

You briefly consider asking about the other names, but he doesn’t owe you those. He owes you answers about the life he can’t return. Just as another question bubbles up your throat, a ringtone sounds. You glance at your phone’s black screen, then back to his furrowed brow. He reaches into his back pocket to fish out a flip phone. A flip phone. You haven’t seen one in years.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. He looks up from the screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he says as he squeezes out of the booth. He disappears as quickly as before.

⭑⭑⭑

You finally take a sip of water. The sweat of the glass bleeds onto your fingertips, so you wipe your hand off on your pant leg before touching your phone. 6:15, it says, which means you've been sitting on this hard, plastic seat for over forty minutes. He's been gone for about ten of them.

Before you can seriously consider just leaving, his form comes into view.

"I've gotta go, but..." He says as he pulls the brown book out of his pocket again. When he opens it, he tears a small piece from the page corner, then scribbles something with a pen.

He places the piece of paper next to the perspiration ring on the table. Stealing one last glance at you, he turns and leaves for the third and final time.

On it is a phone number and a name:

Bucky

#tfatws spoilers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #the birdman and the winter warrior #brown book

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plus-size-reader · 4 years ago

Text

Reunited

Seperated pt.2

Daryl Dixon x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1751 words

Warnings: none

Summary: When Glenn and the reader are reunited, both Daryl and Maggie find themselves feeling especially jealous.

Part 1

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You followed Daryl down the path he'd came from, doing your best to keep from stumbling or holding him up too much.

It wasn't lost on you that Daryl was doing you a huge favor by sticking his neck out for you and you didn't want to cause him any more problems than he may have been dealing with already. On that front, you did better than he thought you would, considering the shape that you were in.

"You doing okay?" he wondered, turning back to you slowly. The two of you had been following the main road thus far, making it a pretty smooth path but he just couldn't be too careful. You were a few paces behind him, so he stopped to let you catch up and then checked the tightness of the wrap.

So far, you were doing alright.

"I'm alright, don't worry" you assured, finding it funny that he was checking on you. There was no good reason for him to care so much but he did. It even surprised Daryl that he cared so much but he decided not to think about that.

It was probably just because you were hurt, or all alone. He knew that feeling and didn't want you to have to go through that if you didn't have to.

"So, you wanna tell me where we're going to?" you asked, finally getting up the courage to do so. You didn't get a really good feel for what Daryl communicated like until much later in your walk but now that you got a better idea, you needed to know.

It wasn't everyday that you just followed a complete stranger to a mystery location, and if you could fill in a few of those pieces, you were going to try.

The male in question was silent for a moment, visibly slowing his pace so that you could keep up. You were hurt, and he didn't want you to feel like you were slowing him down or anything silly like that.

He just assumed that you were that type to feel like you were constantly a burden or some shit like that.

"It's a prison. There's a whole group of us held up there right now, it's got walls and all that" he decided, figuring that was the best description he could give you without getting into too much needless detail.

That was just the way it was, pretty simple.

"A prison huh? Sounds homey" you joked, you had no idea what you were going to do when you got there or if the others would want to accept you, but you were just going to have to see. A joke seemed odd, given the circumstances but you couldn't help yourself.

Surprisingly, Daryl laughed.

It was a dry laugh, deep in his throat and not very amused but you took it as a win. That was the closest you'd gotten to any real emotion from him in all this time. For you, it was more than enough and guaranteed that wasn't going to be the last joke you'd attempt.

"It's not as bad as it sounds" he shrugged, in a way that told you it must not have been. Though, even if it was a hole in the ground, it was more than you'd had for the last few weeks. Anything was better than sleeping on a pile in the ground or under the back seats of a car.

You nodded, stopping short when you came across a fallen tree, covering a pile of dried brush. Daryl stopped first, causing you to almost run into him, though you managed to stop just before you could.

It didn't make any sense. Until, you saw the very front end of a tire peeking through the leaves. This must have been how Daryl had gotten out here in the first place, but that also meant that you had to go back the same way.

"You ever road a motorcycle before?" he questioned, pulling it up on its two wheels. You hadn't, and you would have thought that was obvious. However, when you shook your head, Daryl chuckled.

So, your real joke wasn't funny but the fact that you'd never been on a motorcycle was? This guy didn't make any sense.

"You're being serious? I'm not getting on that thing" you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. The action made your cut burn but you ignored it, trying to keep your ground steady. You were scared of it, and to be fair, anyone would have been.

Your mama always told you that motorcycles were dangerous, and you believed her.

"Well princess, I don't see any other options so unless you want to stay here..." Daryl hummed, gesturing off to the bike, which you really didn't want to get on. Though, you didn't want to be left here more, so you agreed.

You let Daryl get on first, and then you tried your best to get on, throwing your leg over like you were trying to straddle a horse. You had never done that either but you figured it was the right approach and when you didn't fall off, it seemed to have worked.

"Now just hold on tight and try not to fall off" Daryl joked, though you were beginning to think that he was being serious. In any case, you did as he said, holding tight to his middle to keep from falling off and before you knew it, there was a huge prison in front of you.

He was telling the truth.

The walls seemed pretty sturdy, and from what you could tell, there weren't any holes that would cause any glaring problems. Still, everything you were thinking about faded away as soon as you saw Glenn standing there behind those walls.

For a second, you thought that you were hallucinating, but there was no way that was true. You were in a little bit of a rough spot but not that rough. You would have known him anywhere and while you never thought you'd see him again, there was no disputing it.

That was Glenn.

"Oh my God. Oh my GOD!" you squealed, doing your best to get off the back of the motorcycle as gingerly as you could, though seeing as it hadn't fully stopped yet, you faltered on your way. You were okay, and safe within the walls, but it didn't stop Daryl from scoffing.

"What are you doing? Stop that" he chastised, looking at you like you were out of your mind, and maybe you were but you couldn't worry about that. All you could think about was Glenn, standing there with mud on his face.

Before you even knew what was going on, you jumped into him, wrapping your arms around him in a pretty aggressive way. It hurt like a bitch, the open wound in your side punishing you for it immediately but you ignored it.

Right now, you didn't care about anything other than him.

"I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead" he muttered, holding you close with his head in your neck. It was the sort of thing that only two lifelong friends would do after so much time, and you didn't even question it.

However, a few feet away, Daryl was putting the motorcycle up and had very obviously changed his demeanor. He was angry seeing you like that with him, a strange feeling bubbling up in his stomach, but he ignored it.

Clearly, there was something going on between you, but he didn't know what and he wasn't alone. Maggie was struggling with the same thing from where she was standing. Right now, her partner was all wrapped up in a complete and total stranger and she didn't like that. No one would have in her place.

"I thought you were dead too" you replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek before backing away completely, fixing where his hair had gotten a bit messed up in the hug. It had gotten quite a bit longer than the last time you'd seen him.

That seemed to be the last straw for Maggie who stepped forward and cleared her throat. That was more than enough for you and Glenn to turn your attention toward her, and the smile she'd plastered onto her beautiful face.

"Who is this?" she asked, her arms folded in front of her chest as she addressed you. It wasn't aggressive or hostile, just distant and given everything that was going on, you couldn't blame her.

By this point, Daryl had come to stand at your side. He had given you your space to catch up but until you got acquainted with everyone here, you were his responsibility. Not to mention the fact that he had found himself quite fond of you in your time together.

He didn't just want to throw you to the wolves, at least not before he made sure that you got that cut taken care of.

"Her name's Y/N, I found her out there" he spoke up, addressing her question before Glenn even got the chance. At which point, you nodded, offering a hand to her in return, "I'm Y/N" you repeated, looking between her and Glenn as if waiting for the same.

However, he was still so caught up in the fact that this was happening, and that you were alive that nothing else mattered. Something as simple as introducing someone he cared about to his girlfriend was a luxury he didn't really think about anymore.

Though, you coming back into his life was the perfect opportunity.

"Oh yeah, this is Maggie. She's my girlfriend" he introduced. It sounded so mundane, so normal but maybe that was because it was. The two of you had made it all this way, separately and still managed to come back together.

It was nothing short of a miracle.

"Glenn and I were friends as kids, we grew up together" you filled in finally, figuring she had the rest of the pieces to put the story together fully.

You were beyond ecstatic to meet her. Immediately, the tense reaction she'd had to you initially melted away and she smiled. All she needed was some context to understand but Daryl wasn't going to be so easy.

Even knowing all that, he still had that feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wasn't sure why. Until he found out though, he wasn't going to be able to relax. That was for sure.

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rheagodlywrites · 3 years ago

Text

He’s Supposed to be DEAD Alive

Not long after Tommy’s last life was taken in the prison. You and Tubbo take different ways to mourn him. Tubbo does his best to move on but you get stuck in the past as you create his grave. One day while visiting, you think your thoughts are running wild as he appears in from of you…Is he real?

TW: Swearing, Character Death, Hallucinations, Panic/Anxiety attacks…etc.. You’ve been warned.

“Y/n! Hurry! You gotta run!” Your friend pulled you by the arm. You were something that villages saw as a monstrosity. An evil. You were a hybrid of a spider. You had spider legs on your back. Black skin with four red eyes on your face. You had black hair that was tipped white. You had a large mouth that you usually kept hidden under some clothes. You hated the dark since when you were awake, you had to force yourself to avoid attacking others hat didn’t deserve it. Your friend. Your only friend that you’d ever have…Lily. She was a kind soul that saw good in you from day one. She yanked you away from the arrows that had been shot at the two of you. People were screaming her name and yelling at you to give her back. You frowned at her but she only smiled. As you run you nearly trip over your own feet. An arrow flew your way and she took it to the stomach. She fell to the ground as the faint sounds of the villagers came close.

“I can’t keep going. But you can! Don’t worry! Keep running south and you’ll find another village. It’s ten clicks away but you’ll make it! i know you will!” You cry as you hold her hand. Tears fell as you watched the life fade out of her eyes. Her eyes…the light leaving her eyes were the most painful thing to watch. You run. You run without stopping not even for a moment,not even stopping when the sounds of angry villagers faded. You held the flower hair clip that was once in her hair as tears blurred your vision. You found the village that was far off. You stopped as you sat near the well inside. A man with blonde hair approached you with a kid with the same hair and a boy with black hair. They brought you too their home and you learned of their names.

“I’m Tommy and this Eryn! Let’s all be awesome friends! Ok?!” They welcomed you with so much kindness and thought..they didn’t care for the abnormalities that you had and you liked it that way. Your first best friends…will be with you forever.

———

-Tommyinnit was killed by Dream-

The words appeared on your chat log so suddenly. You felt yourself pale as you read the same words over and over. People were talking in the chat on your communicator. You tucked it away and run. You run all the way to the prison entrance. It wasn’t real..no..nononono NO! Sam stood remorseful in front of the prison preventing anyone else from entering the prison. Few were there..Tubbo was there with Ranboo. You liked them both. Trusted them even. You push past them and stare Sam in the eye.

“You need to back off with the rest of them. I can’t do my job until you all leave” You hissed and webbed his face out of anger. You can spit webbing out of your mouth but you hate doing it since people say the feeling is gross.

“Like hell I will! You let one of my BEST FRIENDS die! You let him die to the one person that YOU were supposed to keep away from!” You cried for his death. You cried from the shaking feeling inside your heart. You felt your body shake as you cursed Sam out. A habit you adopted from Tommy after listening to years of him cursing. Sam stood there and took it at face value not even flinching. This only infuriated you more.

“He trusted you to keep Dream under control! To keep him in the prison and or when he visited to take him out when he asked! He trusted you! I-I trusted you!”

“Maybe that was your mistake?!”

“HOW WHEN YOU OFFERED TO TAKE THE PLACE,YOU PATHETIC FUCKING EXCUSE FOR A MAN! I’M A CHILD! WHEN AM I ALLOWED TO MAKE MISTAKES?! ALL OF US GET SHIT ON FOR ANYTHING WE DO AND HAVE DONE! WHY CAN’T WE GET A DAMN BREAK!” You hadn’t even realized that you had your axe on his neck barely cutting his neck. Tubbo gently pulled you back. You let him. You turned on him as you walk away.

“I wouldn’t let you watch over my anything if I had the power over it.”

Since that day, you had avoided most people. You had set up his grave on a hill away from anyone that might vandalize it. You stayed away from the Eggpire sine they had been aiming for his demise for a while. You had sat in front of his grave. The realizations set in as you picked up your breathing. You cried as your breathing became more shallow. Your body shook as you coughed through your tears.

“Tommy..I didn’t wanna loose you too.. Why? Why? WHY!” You wailed between your breaths. You slowed your breathing and the faint sound of Tommy’s voice echoed in your ears.

“Heyyy Big Q!” You turned at this. He sounded so close. You looked around. You wanted to believe it was a lie.

“Tommy?” Silence. The wind blew your hair around and made you feel cold from the tears.

“Y/n, you’re a spider?! That so cool! I wanna be a spider!”

“Me gustaaaaa!”

“Come on,Y/n! If we all say it together then it’ll be funny!”

You covered your ears and hugged yourself with your extra limbs. His voice haunted you. You shut your eyes and then when his voice left..you opened them.

Your flow of panic left but you saw a familiar blur run down the hill. You scrambled to your feet and followed. You followed him down the hill but once you got to the bottom with the clearing. There was no one there. You looked around like a wild animal. Looking for Tommy, looking for a reason to believe that he’s alive. But there was nothing like that. He was dead. You collapse on a nearby tree and gripped your shirt. Your breathing started to pick up and tears blurred your vision. You started to kick at the dirt,digging holes in the ground with the heels of your feet until you let out a loud scream. You screamed into the wind for a while till you stopped. Your voice was sore and eyes were dry but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. The voice was back. HIS voice was back along with Lily’s and you didn’t know how to even cope.

Ever since that day, you spent your weeks keeping his grave clean and attempting to move on. You tried to talk with other more or even make yourself look more refreshed but your ears still heard his voice. Your eyes played tricks and say him in the distance or right in front of you. Your dreams..oh god your dreams..

You hauled yourself up the hill. The smell of the forest and nature surrounding the area made you want to go home but you denied the urge. You made it to the top just as the sun was right above in the sky. You stared at Tommy’s grave and just looked.

“Hey Toms. I just wanted to drop off these flowers. They’re white and red like the shirt you loved wearing when I first met you.. remember that? You were so upset when I accidentally tore it with my spider leg. You made me-“

“Repair it with your webs but Phil found out about it and did it himself..” A familiar voice had interrupted your sentence. You turned and saw Tommy. He was right there but you didn’t believe it. He smiled but you only laughed to yourself. You laughed at what you thought was just another hallucination.

“I bet this is another fake. I’ll close my eyes or look again and poof! GONE! Tommy has been dead for two weeks…he’s really gone.” You turned from him but you felt something wrap around you as you curled up into a ball.

“I am real you dickhead.” You poke him and held your breath. He’s really here. He’s alive..

“Tommy, I thought you were..Tommy!” You pulled him into a hug and cried. He held you as you cried on his shoulder. Tommy didn’t know what to do but he let you cry without complaining as he knew it has taken a toll on you.

“I’m here. It’ll probably be ok...”

#writing #fantasy #fiction #fanfic #dsmp #minecraft #angst #dsmp tommy #platonic #dsmp fanfic #character death #hallucinations #revived tommyinnit

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